


Real or not real?

by anyasromanov



Category: Anastasia (1997), Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Amnesia, F/M, Family, Home, Love, Paris - Freeform, Real or not real, Russia, based on real life but also the musical
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-11-05 14:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17920355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyasromanov/pseuds/anyasromanov
Summary: When Dmitry worked in the palace, he and Anastasia had a secret love. After the murder of the Tsar and his family Dmitry is left alone until he finds Anya a year later in Perm and she can’t remember anything other than the past year. Determined to help her get her memory back they play a little game, real or not real, while journeying to Paris.





	1. Chapter 1

### Prologue

Dmitry looked around Ipatiev House. He hated it here. It was cramped and dirty and just, in general, an awful place to live. A complete downgrade from the life of a palace. The only reason he was allowed to come with the Tsar and his family was to look after Alexei. If it was not for Alexei being ill when they were moved he would've been left on the train with Pierre and Sydney and all the other servants. How he missed them.

"Suyadev?"

Dmitry stood, arms by his side, looking at the Bolshevik soldier. As nervous as he was he refused to show it. He stood showing his pride.

"How old are you boy?"

"I'm nineteen, sir."

"Didn't fight in the war then?"

"No, sir. Was working in the palace, sir."

"Well, at least you have respect." He didn't respond, remembering his lessons of the palace. Only speak to if spoken to in form of a question. That was a statement, not a question. "How long did you work for them?"

"Since I was ten, sir. Father was taken and had nowhere to go, was thrown into work at the palace." 

"Father was taken in by the Tsar and you still worked for him?" The man scoffed as he spoke, clearly in disbelief.

"Didn't get a choice, sir. Didn't know at the time," he paused before following with another "Sir."

"Okay, well, you've been dismissed, effective immediately."

"But, sir, Alexei is still sick."

"The young boy will no longer require your services."

"But-"

"It's Dmitry right?" He was suddenly confused by the sudden informality that had come between the two of them. The atmosphere almost completely different.

"Yes, sir."

"You don't need to call me that, look," his voice lowered, "We never registered you as a resident when we brought the family here. We were under strict orders to only bring the Romanovs, you are not a Romanov. You seem like a good kid Dmitry, you're being a chance to get out, take it."

"I don't understand."

"Trust me, you don't want to have the same fate as the Romanovs. You're being given a chance to get out. Take it."

He could tell his words had suddenly turned to orders.

"Can I at least say goodbye?" He didn't care about saying goodbye to the big pair, or Maria, or Alexandra. He just wanted to say goodbye to Nicholas and Alexei. And Anastasia. His Anastasia. He knew as soon as she learnt of his dismissal she would be heartbroken, betrayed he left without her.

"I'm sorry, that will not be permitted." The soldier with the stern voice had returned, it was no longer the kind soldier who was giving him a warning. A warning for what he didn't know. "You will pack the few things you own while they're eating supper."

It was a look shared with Nicholas once he left the table that explained almost everything. When he went to the dresser he noticed a note on the table for him, he quickly moved it to his pocket before the guard entered the room and he was escorted from the premises. 

###### 

It was the early hours of the following morning he learnt what the guard was warning him about.

He'd taken the night to sleep in the woods only to be awoken by the sounds of shots, dogs barking and the screams of children. He knew exactly who it was. His heart shattered.

He understood the warning completely now, the officers hadn't registered so they wouldn't have had to kill him. They didn't want to kill innocent people, which was probably why the house stenched of vodka as he left.

The shots lasted half an hour, the screams lasted longer though. He didn't know how much longer. 

But the silence. The silence that came after. That was the worst part of it all.

He knew he would never forget the screams. But the silence that came after, that would be what he remembered most.


	2. Chapter 2

July 17th.

Dmitry stood looking at the calendar.

It had been a year. A full year without them. But it still felt as if it was only yesterday. He heard the shots every night as he fell asleep and any silence was almost deafening.

He was just glad to finally be out of Siberia. It had taken him long enough.

Now he was in Perm, working in a boarding house for a woman called Darya. She was lovely. Quite a small plump woman, she had long brown hair which she always insisted on wearing in a braid and always had an apron tied around her waist over her dress. She was also a hugger.

Dmitry was very grateful for the woman, she had given him a room to live in, a job and paid him weekly. She knew of his plans to travel to St Petersburg when he could, but she was still welcoming.

He worked in the kitchen making soup and blinis, of course, the soup never had meat though due to the rations still taking place. Then in the early hours of each morning, he would walk to the market to collect fresh ingredients, Darya would always give him a little extra money so he could by himself some fresh rolls from the bakery.

"Are you heading to the market then dear?"

Dmitry was still staring at the calendar, remembering the years he spent with the Romanov's, her comment took him by surprise. "Yes, of course, erm, yes."

"Mitya, are you okay?" Mitya was the nickname she had begun to use for him, he never had the heart to tell her his nickname had always been Dima, so Mitya stuck.

"I lost a few people I loved on this day."

"If you want the day off-"

"No, I'll be fine, do you have the money?"

She handed him the money, with the extra for the bread and he went on his way.

He had a strange feeling dwelling upon him, an anxious feeling in his stomach. He blamed it on the fact that it had been a year since the dreadful event, surely that was all it could be.

He was very quick to collect the fresh ingredients that morning, not stopping to have any conversation with anyone working at the market before he headed to the bakery where a fresh loaf of bread would be waiting for him, the baker expected him at this point.

Once he had collected his bread he was on his way back to the boarding house. He would usually stay to talk to the baker, but at this moment, he didn't want to be out and especially didn't want to be conversing with people. 

The air was thick and the uneasy feeling in his stomach only grew, making him feel almost sick to his stomach. Again, he brushed the feeling off due to it being the anniversary of their death but- was that someone following him?

Unsure whether it was or not he picked up his pace, surely it wasn't a Bolshevik, didn't get many of those out here in Perm, they weren't needed. And although he hated them, he hated them with all his heart for what they had done to the Romanovs, he never spoke his thoughts, knowing the consequences full well. 

This person was definitely following him.

"Did you want something?" He stopped in his tracks, turning to face the figure.

"Yeah, your bread."

"You're not getting it, go bother someone else-" but before Dmitry could walk away he was pushed to the ground and the man was holding him down.

He just managed to worm himself out from the man's grasp, standing up again, trying to take his bag, but the man only punched him to the floor and once he was on the floor again the man began to kick him. He wanted to fight back, but at the same time, a small voice in his head was telling him to give up. If he died now, at least he would be back with the Romanovs. He would be back with Anastasia.

"Hey! Leave him alone!" It was the voice of a female, that sounded so familiar- it couldn't be- he dismissed the thought before he had even finished it. She charged at the man with a stick chasing him off. 

The thought came back almost instantly, the strawberry blonde instantly eliminated it from being any of the girls apart from Anastasia, and he had heard the rumours, so he couldn't help but think-

"Are you okay?" The woman dropped to the floor raising her hand to his face checking for any wounds on his face. "He hit you hard, you need to get properly checked at the hospital."

He couldn't get over her voice, she sounded almost exactly like her. It was completely absurd but he needed to see her eyes. 

"Erm, I need to get back to work, I'll be fine," he pulled his bag close and went to stand, wincing in pain slightly.

"You're coming to the hospital with me." Stubborn, just like she had been.

"I'm not going to the hospital."

"You are so stubborn," she looked at him now. Making direct eye contact. And her eyes. Oh her eyes.

Her eyes were so blue. They were the Romanov blue. That was the only way to describe them really, it was quite a unique colour. The way the sky blue mixed in with a cornflower blue, small specks of green with the colour of a clear ocean. Her eyes resembled the ocean more like anything at the moment, so full of life yet so uncertain, as if she knew nothing.

It was her. He was certain of it now. His Nastya. The girl that would always grab his hand and sneak him into her room to steal a small kiss. She was alive and standing in front of him, and he couldn't believe it.

"You-you're alive-" was all he managed to speak before he wrapped his arms around her, not thinking twice. She let out a small scream and pushed him back.

"Sorry, do I know you?" She looked like a lost spirit. How could she not remember who he was? They'd known each other for 10 years. And they definitely knew each other well...

"Sorry, you just look exactly like someone I used to know."

"Maybe you did know me."

"What?" Now it was his time to very confused. This girl standing before him, he was almost sure, no he was certain, it was Anastasia. But the small freak out when he touched her, and the words that left her mouth, had she forgotten who she was?

"Come to the hospital with me and I'll tell you." If he wasn't sure it was Anastasia before, he was one hundred percent certain now, still the stubborn girl she had always been. He decided to give in, only because he needed to know what had happened to her and why she couldn't remember him.

"What's your name?" She asked him the question before he got the chance to even open his mouth and find out what was going on.

"Dmitry."

"Oh, I don't remember anyone called Dmitry," they started to walk in the what he assumed was the direction of the hospital, "I'm Anya by the way, well, that's the name the nurses gave me at the hospital."

"The hospital, nurses? What do you mean?"

"About a year ago some people found me by the side of the road, I had cuts and bruises all over, especially on my chest, and then it seemed as I'd been shot or something at the side of my head. I don't remember anything before then. The nurses, they told me I had amnesia, and there was nothing they could do about it."

"You don't remember anything?" She shook her head in response.

"Well, I remember Paris-" he thought about how the girls had talked about Paris, how that was where their nana was. She promised Anastasia that one day she would go to Paris, he remembered her telling her, about the ballet, and her grandfather's bridge. "I think it's Paris anyway, but that's where I'm hoping to end up."

"I'm trying to get to St Petersburg," he paused for a second looking around, realising his mistake, "Petrograd even. Maybe we could help each other, seeing as I know you from before."

"You really know me from before?" He gave a small nod. "Is my name really Anya?" 

Now he had a decision to make. Did he protect her from her past, this girl couldn't remember who she was, telling her that her entire family had been murdered by the current leaders of Russia, and what would happen if the Bolsheviks found out one of the Grand Duchess' was alive? Or did he tell her the truth? If he told her the truth, at least, maybe, she would trust him more. But lying to her seemed to outweigh telling her the truth, he would have to tell her, eventually, but maybe now, while they were still in Russia was not the safest idea. He couldn't take the risk of her being caught and being killed. He couldn't lose her again.

"Kind of," the questioning look showed him that she was confused. "It was a nickname," it wasn't a complete lie, she had several nicknames, just Anya wasn't one of them, but it worked.

She gave a small 'oh' in response before they continued to the hospital. The rest of the walk was silent, neither of them sharing words until they were sat in the hospital and she was dressing his wounds.

She began quietly complaining about how she hated working here, how she hated seeing injured people, how it hurt her more because she had no nice memories with a hospital. He did think about how waking up in a hospital, surrounded by nurses, pains in her sides and head, not knowing who she was must have been quite traumatising. He wanted to tell her everything would be okay but he knew he couldn't.

"I work at a boarding house, maybe you could come work there, and then we could make our way to-" he didn't finish his sentence, he saw a nurse look over to him and he knew almost instantly she was part of the Cheka.

"On one condition-" he raised an eyebrow at her, "You help me remember."

"We could play a little game? If you think you remember something you could ask me, I could tell you if it's real or not."

A small smile crept on her face. She looked so lost and innocent, but she was still Anastasia. How no one recognised her, he didn't know, but then again Ipatiev house did no good to the family, she did look slightly older than she was supposed to be, looked much older than a girl of 18.

She still looked like the girl he had slowly fallen in love with. The girl who would sneak off in the Alexander Palace to spend more time with him. The girl who made sure the five minutes spent outside in the garden were spent with him, at different times to her parents. And as they were called in she would plant a kiss on his cheek. He knew the feelings were returned, she had told him so.

Nothing could have happened though, that's what he had thought anyway, all up until that time he was with the Tsar and-

"Dmitry-" there was an urgency that appeared in her voice. "You zoned out. I said are we going to this boarding house or not?"


	3. Chapter 3

Once Dmitry had been stitched up, they made their way back to the boarding house. Fortunately, he had no major damage apart from one cut on his head.

Their walk was almost silent and he could tell she was nervous. Her hands were in the pocket of the coat that was clearly too big for her. She was wearing a skirt and had a white blouse on well as well as some boots that looked battered. She had a bag but he assumed there probably wasn't much more in it. He made a mental note to buy, or steal, her more clothes.

He wanted to ask her about her diamonds but knew that would give away too much about her past. Maybe she didn't have them anymore anyway.

"Are you sure about this?" Her voice was small and timid, a side to Anastasia he had never seen before. He had to remember though, technically this girl was not Anastasia, she had no memories of being a Grand Duchess, she was Anya now.

"Sure about what?"

"Me." She didn't say anything after that, but the way she had stood still and looked down was enough to explain. She really was a different person to the girl he remembered, the past year must have really changed her.

"Sure that I know you or sure that I want to help you? Because trust me, I am sure of both," she gave a weak smile to his response which spoke of naivety and fear. He wanted to hug her, kiss her maybe, but her previous reaction to a hug told him not to do that. "Come on, we'll go back to the house and you'll meet Darya, she's the owner, she's lovely."

She approached him slowly and then continue to walk by his side the rest of the way, her arm frequently brushed against his and he wondered if she had even a faint memory of him.

They arrived back to the boarding house and she took a step back, he'd never seen her this nervous before.

"It's going to be fine."

He opened the door and was greeted by Irina, the receptionist.

"Dmitry, where have you been, Darya has been worried sick with how long you have been," she turned from her desk and went through the door behind her, he assumed to call for Darya.

When she returned, the woman was indeed with him and she let out a relieved sigh.

"Oh, Mitya, I was so worried," she came over, cupping her face, she pulled him down and examined him, rubbing her hand against the fresh stitches on her face. "Mitya what happened, are you alright."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he gave a slightly nervous laugh, "You don't need to worry about me, Darya."

"Yes, but you Mitya, you're still young, you must look after yourself, you have your life ahead of you," she glanced to Anya who was now almost hiding behind Dmitry. "Oh, how rude of me dear, hello I'm Darya, no need to be worried about anything, did you want a room?"

"Actually, Anya is er, an old friend of mine, could you maybe give her some work?"

"The work yes, but we don't have any more staff rooms, would you-" he nodded understanding completely, "and Dmitry why did you never tell me who you used to work for. I am terribly sorry for your loss."

He didn't know how she found out, he didn't want to know, he was just glad she didn't recognise Anya for who she really was.

"If you show her to the room I'll sort some work for her, then you can start in the kitchen."

He nodded and turned to Anya, he reached for her hand after realising she had not been paying any attention to the conversation, she startled slightly then looked up to him. Her eyes. Every time she looked at him with wide eyes there was a feeling in his stomach, it was a mix of worry and fear combined with the feelings he had once, still, felt for her.

"I'm showing you your room," she gave a small nod and then put her hand back in his. He realised how difficult this may be.

He took her through the back and then up the stairs to where his room was as she would now be sharing with him. The worker's rooms were small and cramped, but nowhere as cramped as Ipatiev house.

As he opened the door to the room he quickly ran to the dresser and hid the photo which was a portrait of him with the Romanovs. She didn't need to see that yet.

The room was small and had wooden flooring, there were two dressers and a small double bed. Every single room looked like this. There was a circular mirror on a door which led to a bathroom and a desk with a chair. Other than that the room was pretty bare. The only personal belonging Dmitry had was the photo of the Romanovs and him, they weren't allowed to access their luggage in Ipatiev house so he had no way of retrieving anything.

He turned to look at her and it was evident how nervous she continued to be. He moved his hand to his neck and started rubbing it himself in a slightly nervous manner.

"Er, so there aren't any other rooms, it would be okay if we shared right, you can have the bed and I can sleep on the floor." It was his time to be nervous now, he wanted to look after her so this was the best option, he just didn't know how she would respond.

"The bed's big enough for two people."

"Yeah-er, I just wasn't sure if you-"

"We'll both have clothes on so it doesn't matter, does it?"

"Yeah, no, er, yeah, you're right." He could explain to her how she wasn't really supposed to sleep in a bed with a man until she was married, but he didn't want to explain everything that came with it. And, on the plus side, he would be sharing a bed with the girl he had a crush on for almost ten years.

"Okay, if you want to leave your things or take five minutes, I'm going to start work in the kitchen and then if you find Darya she'll have sorted something out for you." He walked past her and out of the door.

"Dmitry," he turned to face her, realising how he towered over her. "Thank you."


	4. Chapter 4

Dmitry found that the day went too slow. He still had a slight pain in his head and side and his heart ached. He couldn't get over how much he missed the Romanov's and now Anastasia was here but at the same time she wasn't, she had no clue as to who she was.

She was a completely different person.

Darya had found some sewing for her to do which he knew she would succeed in. When she was younger she was expected to do needlework for charity and when they were in Tobolsk she often mentioned she had to go off and do some sewing. Whenever their clothes needed mending as well they had to do it themselves. So he knew she knew how to do it, she seemed very surprised when she could do it herself.

"Mitya!" Dmitry turned his attention from making blinis to Darya who had slightly raised her voice at him, clearly to get his attention. "No arguments, you're having the rest of the day off, you're not fit for work today."

He went to protest but he was cut off my Darya only telling him to go rest in his room, he knew there was no point protesting.

When he got to his room Anya was stood by the dresser, looking at something, she clearly didn't hear him walk in.

"What are you looking for?" His voice came out more stern and serious than intended which made her startle slightly.

"Oh, sorry- I- er-" he realised how nervous he had made her and the pain returned to his chest. There was no title holding him back from kissing her now, just her memory.

Why was it impossible for him to have this girl?

When she moved he realised what she had been looking at, it was a photo of her, Alexei and him that Maria had taken on her camera one day and had then given to him.

He smiled at the memory. Alexei had fallen and was not allowed out of bed so Dmitry had been reading to him, Anastasia had overheard and come to join them, and then Maria had joined. Only to then run off and get her camera to capture the memory.

That then sparked the memory of Count Vladimir Popov, the man who had given the girls their cameras. 

"You can take another look, I didn't mean to startle you." His voice was much softer than before, he longed to comfort her.

She looked back to the photo, her actions slower than they previously had been.

"Can I sit?" He gestured to the space on the bed next to her and she nodded as she reached for the photo. 

He sat closer to her than what was properly deemed appropriate but she didn't flinch. In fact, Anya seemed to enjoy the warmth of another person being so close to her. Her entire body seemed warm up, as if she knew him, used to be close with him in some way.

"Is-is-" she seemed too shocked for words, leaving Dmitry to assume other than Paris this was the only connection she had to her past, "that's me?" His response was quiet, almost a whisper as he responded with a 'yes', it broke him to see she didn't remember. "And is that you?" She pointed to the figure in the photo that was evidently him, he nodded in response. "We- we weren't related were we?"

"No, oh god no," he came across more disgusted than intended, but that was possibly because of the feelings he had for her. He couldn't tell her that, he didn't want to force her into anything, so he went with the easiest excuse, "we were friends, really, really, close friends."

"Who's the other boy in the photo?"

He stayed silent for a second.

"Is it your brother?"

His sympathy only grew for the girl sitting in front of him, his heart was breaking more and more by the second, knowing the inevitable he knew he had to tell her this. "He was your brother."

"Oh-", an awkward silence fell among them and then, "Do you know where he is? Maybe we could find him and he could-"

"Anya-" he took a deep breath, "I'm sorry, but your brother, he passed away." There was no way in hell or earth, that he was telling this young girl that her brother had been shot, with the rest of her family, her among them, a year ago on this very day. There was no way, especially with her not knowing who her family was. He couldn't do that to her. More importantly, he couldn't do that to himself. 

Tears had filled his eyes and he admitted Alexei's fate to Anya, the first time he had admitted any of their deaths out loud.

Anya had sat there in silence, just staring at the photo. He was slightly surprised by the reaction from her, but then again, he didn't really know what reaction to expect from her.

His heart was already broken, but when she turned to face him and it was evident she was silently crying, his heart shattered into a thousand pieces.

"I had a brother, and I can't even remember him," he realised now why she was crying, she expected herself to mourn the loss of a member of her family, one of whom she couldn't even remember, that was why she was crying. Not because he was dead, because she had no memory of him at all, so she had no capability to mourn.

Dmitry moved his hand to her shoulder, rubbing it in a comforting manner, he was just glad she hadn't asked about the rest of her families fate.

...

"You can't sleep on the floor!"

Dmitry rolled his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time. Anastasia was stubborn, he could vouch for that. Anya, well she was even more stubborn if that was even possible, he didn't understand how it was, but it was.

"Where do you expect me to sleep then? Because there is no way you are sleeping on the floor!" Their voices were loud whispers, it was late and neither of them wanted to have the attention of anyone who was working or staying here.

"I- I don't know- but you can't sleep on the floor!"

We could share the bed, Dmitry thought, but no, they couldn't. For starters, they were not married, it would be wrong. Secondly, although he had known Anastasia since she was 8, he had only known Anya a day, it was just all sorts of wrong.

"Well you can't figure out somewhere else for me to sleep, and neither can I, so the floor is where I'm going to have to sleep!"

"Dmitry," her voice seemed to pleed now.

"You figure somewhere for me to sleep and I'll sleep there, but for now, chuck me a pillow." His voice had turned soft. He was finding this hard. Looking at her, having many ulterior motives but not being able to proceed with any of them.

She threw a pillow over to him and he placed himself on the floor, it was cold and hard and just awful. He had, though, slept in worse conditions, although he did not want to remind himself of that.

He was almost making himself comfortable when he heard Anya whispering prayers. A small smirk appeared on his face, clearly even with memory loss what the Tsarina had taught her would never leave her.


	5. Chapter 5

Two weeks had passed and Dmitry had stuck to the same routine before, apart from when it came to the evening.

He would say prayers with Anya at night now, although he never said his prayers out loud, which irritated her, he would kneel by the side of the bed with her.

It brought back both positive and negative memories, he tried to hang onto the positive. Remembering when he would pray with Alexei and when Anastasia would join the two of them.

When Alexei was sick, all four of the sisters would come into his room and they would all pray together. Alexandra and Nicholas too, along with Botkin, Alexei's doctor and on the occasion, other servants, if permitted, would be allowed to come in and would pray with them.

He missed them. He missed her.

Anya went by day by day, only seeming to grow more frustrated by the fact she couldn't remember anything. Knowing she had had a brother didn't help her case at all, she frequently asked Dmitry what he was like, he would tell her, in brief details, wanting her to try and remember herself, this frustrated her further.

Another thing that frustrated her was that Dmitry was still sleeping on the floor, one thing she didn't understand. The bed was big enough for two people, and they were both fully clothed at night so why they didn't just share she didn't know.

This was an argument they had frequently, and one that was occurring at this second.

"Dmitry, you're so stubborn! Just sleep on the bed! I'll sleep on the floor if it means you'll sleep in the bed."

"I'm stubborn? Anya, you're sleeping in that bed, and I'm sleeping on the floor, that's the end of the conversation."

"Why can't we share? Why can't I sleep on the floor?"

The list filled Dmitry's head. Why weren't they sharing? He wanted to say it was because she was an aristocrat, because of her title, it was wrong for them to share a bed without being married, but that wasn't the reason, he didn't care about that. It was the fact that he didn't know how his body would react to being so close to her, having her warmth near him again, smelling her hair, being able to touch her. He would want to kiss her maybe even-

"Dmitry!"

"You're sleeping on the bed. Goodnight, Anya."

The list of the reasons why she was on the bed filled his head, because of how we were treated in Tobolsk, in Yekaterinburg, the fact she had been on the streets for a year. She deserved a real bed.

Falling asleep on the hard, cold floor had started to become easier for Dmitry, tonight, though, it seemed to be a difficult task.

At first, it was purely because he couldn't get comfortable but then was- was Anya talking?

"We're safe- they-they won't harm us-"

He slowly sat up, not wanting to startle her in any way, but she was restlessly moving back and forth on the bed. She was still asleep. Having a nightmare of-

"No!" She was scared. "I- I don't know who I am- n-no!"

He'd never heard anyone talk in their sleep before, he got the impression that he shouldn't wake her though.

"Papa!"

Once she had screamed he watched as she threw the covers away from her and ran away from the bed, she'd woken up.

He got up without thinking and quickly ran to her side.

"Anya,"

"I keep seeing faces, and hearing voices and-" she turned and faced Dmitry, her eyes filled with tears and them falling down her face.

"Come here," he opened his arms to her and she approached his embrace, feeling warm and familiar as he wrapped his arms around her. "You're safe Anya, I promise." He lied. She wasn't safe, not as long as she was in Russia.

"There's a house, and we're being taken outside, and-" she was trying to recall that night, sobbing between her words, "then we're taken down some stairs- there's a light at the end of the hall- and then the faces- I see them but- I- I- don't know who they are and the voices- one is a young boy, and-" her sobs got louder, he pulled her closer towards his chest, hoping it would make them quieter. "He said he was going to tell me a secret- he was going to die soon- then- he said we all are- wh-what did he mean?"

"I don't know," another lie, he couldn't tell her now.

"Dmitry-"

"Yes?"

"I never had these nightmares, before, did I? Real or not real?"

"Real."

She pulled away from their hug and looked up at him, he could see the fear in her eyes, her hand was still gripping onto his shirt.

"Please don't sleep on the floor, please. Sleep in the bed, please." Her eyes, her voice, she was pleading, she didn't want him to leave her.

He let out a breath he didn't realise he had been holding, "Okay, you win, you stubborn woman." He wanted to lighten the mood, "but if you so badly wanted me to share a bed with you, you could've said, you didn't need to go and have a nightmare."

She let out a small laugh and he could tell she was forcing a smile when she looked up at him. He moved his hand from being wrapped around her frame to cup her face, then used his thumbs to wipe the tears that were still falling down her face.

"Let's go back to sleep."

...

Dmitry woke up feeling comfortable for the first time in two weeks. His legs had entwined with hers during the night and her head was on his chest. He was sure his arm had gone dead as she was lying on top of it. They were very close, but he liked it, he hated he had to move her so he could get up to leave for the market.

It was his arm moving that startled her awake. A small smile formed on her face as she listened to his heartbeat, but the fact that he was moving away from her disheartened her.

"Where are you going?" The quietness of her voice made him jump slightly.

"Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Answer the question."

"The market."

"Oh, that's where you go every morning," she let out a small giggle. Every morning she woke he was never in the room, she had always wondered why and now she knew. "Can I come with you, please?" Hearing her plead so much in the past couple of hours reminded him of something, this girl was only 18. She was only just an adult, she still probably had some childlike mannerisms though.

He contemplated the decision for a second, it did mean he would get to spend more time with her if she came, though, so he agreed. Her face lit up as if a small child had just been given a lollipop and she jumped out of bed, getting her skirt and blouse and running to the bathroom.

Dmitry took the opportunity of her being out of the room to quickly get changed himself before walking over to the dresser and pulling out the photo of him and the Romanov's. 

It would've been Alexei's birthday in 10 days, he would've been 15, he didn't deserve his fate, none of them did.

"So what are we going to the market for?"

He quickly dropped the photo back in the draw and forcefully closed it, turning to face her, failing at being subtle. She raised an eyebrow to him but didn't ask any questions which Dmitry was more than thankful for.

"Fresh ingredients for me to make blinis and soup, Darya also gives me some extra money to buy some bread but I've reduced the size I'm getting, saving money to get to Petersburg," her face lit up as he finished his sentence. She seemed happier this morning, the happiest she had been in two weeks, he was glad.

"You really meant it when you said you were going to help me get to Paris?" He watched as she went to the mirror and began to put her hair up.

"Of course I meant it, keep it down."

"I have to wear it up."

"Why?" He knew why, she was an adult now, she had to wear it up.

"I don't know, but I have to wear it up, okay."

"It looks nicer down, suits you more." He was sure he saw a small smile creep on her face. "I'll see you downstairs in a second."

He slipped out the door and made his way downstairs to the reception where Darya was already waiting for him.

"A little extra as usual, Mitya," he smiled and thanked her and turned as he heard Anya walking down the stairs.

She'd kept her hair down apart from a single braid than across the top of her head.

"Oh, Anya, you're not needed yet."

"She's coming to the market with me this morning."

"Mitya you should have said!" She handed him a couple more rubles which made him shake his head.

"Darya you don't-"

"Treat yourselves Mitya," she turned to Anya, "have a nice walk darling, I don't want him coming back broken this time." Anya laughed but Dmitry could tell by the look on her face she was nervous about the comment that was made.

She quickly ran to his side and wrapped her arms around one of his, seeking comfort.

"We'll see you soon."

As they walked out of the boarding house they heard as Darya called for him, "Mitya be careful," which she quickly followed with "you as well Anya." Dmitry couldn't help but roll his eyes, he loved Darya, she just worried too much.

They'd been walking in silence for a while, Anya was holding his hand, her head leaning on his arms as her arms were still wrapped around one of his arms. She was surprised that he hadn't asked her to stop, but at the same time was glad. She felt so comfortable like this, but why, she didn't know.

"Why does she call you Mitya?"

"It's a diminutive form for Dmitry, she called it me one day and it never stopped."

"But it's Dima," Dmitry stopped walking as the words left her mouth. "You've always been Dima."

"I never told you that-"

She pulled away from his arm and looked at him, a slightly worried expression on her face.

Without even thinking Dmitry picked her up and spun her around, she screamed at first but then started to giggle. When he put her down he wanted to kiss her, he could have kissed her but he stopped himself and looked away before her eyes trapped him.

He looked back to her and there was a wide smile on her face.

"I- I remembered something," there was a tone of disbelief in her voice.

"Yes, you did!"

It was her impulse decision not his, she noticed he leaned in slightly but pulled away, so when he faced her this time she couldn't help herself, she placed her hands around his neck, stood on her tiptoes and crashed her lips against his.

He was surprised at first, but very quickly he was kissing her back, his hands moved to her back, pulling her closer towards him, taking their kiss as far as he would let her.

Her lips formed a smile as she pulled away, her cheeks turning a scarlet red as she quickly looked down to her feet, feeling slightly embarrassed. He watched as she moved her hand to brush her lip softly. She looked at him and the next words she spoke brought a smile to his face.

"That wasn't the first time we kissed, real or not real?"

"Real."


	6. Chapter 6

Anya took his hand back in hers and went back to wrapping her arms around his arm, resting her head against his arm as they walked the rest of the way to the market. A smile had grown on her face, glad she could remember something, slightly, from before. Although she didn't remember him much, she remembered his nickname, and that they had kissed, but that was all. She had wanted to ask more, had they had been in a relationship, was it just a one-time thing they had done? But she decided she didn't want to know the answer because if she got the answer she didn't want everything would become awkward.

Dmitry was walking with a smile on his face also, he was slowly getting his Anastasia back, it wasn't much, but just the smallest things she remembered. He was glad she hadn't asked any more questions, then he'd have to explain they had a relationship but it was secret, but if she asked why it was secret-

"So what do we need then?"

He looked up from his thoughts and realised they'd arrived at the market, "We need fresh eggs, fresh milk and some butter."

"Isn't that expensive?"

"Not if you know the right people," a smirk grew on his face which only led her to the state of confusion. She simply shrugged her shoulders and let him take her where they needed to go.

He started to walk through the market, looking for his seller, making sure he kept Anya close, not wanting anyone to see her eyes. She started to loosen her grip but he quickly squeezed her hand and pulled her closer to him.

"Can't I have a quick look-"

"No, please, just trust me okay, the market isn't safe-"

"I can defend myself."

"I know you can, that's not the reason-"

"Morning comrade!" Dmitry turned and saw a Bolshevik officer standing right before him. Shit.

"Yes, good morning Comrade." Anya sensed the stiffness in his voice and decided to stay standing behind him, not liking how tense Dmitry had suddenly gone. "Is there a problem officer?"

"No, no problem," he tried to take a look at Anya but she reverted her eyes from him, "just come to check on the city."

"Well, if there's anything you ever need, officer."

"Actually," he paused, "There have been rumours, about the Romanovs, I know you used to work for them Comrade-" shit, Dmitry couldn't believe this was happening, with Anya standing right behind him as well, he was going to have to do so much explaining later. "You know there fate, I know you were dismissed on the eleventh hour that night," Dmitry shuddered at the thought, "tell people the rumours are not true, we don't need there to be any more revolutions now do we?"

"Of course not, Comrade. Revolutions are nasty things, as necessary as they may be." The officer shook his head. "We must be on our way, can't be late for work."

"How is Darya these days?"

"Fine." He looked at the officer, his eyes shooting daggers, "Good day, comrade."

His grip tightened on Anya even more, if that was possible, and quickly pulled her along after him. The only thought going through his head was the hope she didn't ask any questions, he didn't know how he would answer a single one.

He noticed her hand was shaking in his, but before he stopped he wanted to make sure he was out of sight of the Bolshevik. He glanced over his shoulder and when he was sure they were out of sight, he'd walked down an alleyway, he pulled her into a hug. It wasn't just her hand shaking, her entire body was shaking.

"Anya, are you okay?"

"The uniform- my nightmare-"

"You saw a Bolshie in your nightmare?" He tightened his grip on her as he hugged her and felt her head nod, he was sure he could hear her crying.

"You're safe, it's okay."

"Don't lie to me."

"You are safe Anya, I'm not going to let anyone hurt you, I promise."

She was definitely crying at this point, "Come on, let's just get what we need from the market, quickly, and get back to the boarding house."

They walked back over to the market, he could tell there were still Bolshevik officers around as who he usually went to was very tense and not his usual self. They did their trade and then Dmitry quickly took Anya's hand and headed to the bakery to get the loaf of bread.

The exchange was done with almost no words, usually, the baker was extremely friendly, but you could never be too careful, especially knowing there were Bolsheviks in the area.

They didn't talk the entire walk home, Anya was full of fear, so was Dmitry, both for different reasons though.

He was worried one of the Bolsheviks might have seen her and if that was the case they needed to get out of Perm immediately. He wasn't sure if he had enough money for tickets, but he needed enough, Petersburg probably wasn't much safer, but they would be one step closer to getting out.

As soon as they got back to the boarding house Dmitry ran straight upstairs, hearing Darya call after him, a remark he ignored. He did hear Anya say some Bolsheviks had annoyed him and he needed to let off some steam.

Once in the room, he walked over to the dresser and opened the top drawer bringing out the pot of money, he sat on the bed and started to count it, Anya walked in as he was doing so.

She stood at the door for a second, watching as he counted, it was such a mundane task but it still brought a small smile to her face.

"Do we have it?" Her voice was small, a slight tone of hope disguised in there and Dmitry wanted to do anything but say the next words.

"Four-hundred rubles short."

"Did you add my money, we're going together so-"

"Do you happen to have four-hundred rubles?"

"No."

"If I stop buying bread from the bakery then we might be able to go next week."

"Can I come to the market again tomorrow."

"No."

"Why?"

He took a deep breath, because if the Bolsheviks get a proper look at you, if they see your eyes, if they recognise you as Anastasia the both of us are good enough as dead. That's what he wanted to say anyway.

"I'm going alone tomorrow, if the Bolsheviks are gone then you can come the day after, but not tomorrow."

"I can defend myself if-"

"That's not why."

"Tell me why."

"No."

"Dmitry, don't lie to me!" Her voice raised slightly, resulting in him making a shushing noise and raising his finger to his lip.

"I will explain properly eventually, it's just not safe right now. Just trust me, please."

"Fine."

...

The day went extremely slow, there were only a couple of people in the boarding house that day, many going on their way because of the Bolsheviks, so Dmitry wasn't cooking all day for a change.

Instead, while he was free, he sat and watched Anya as she was sewing clothes and sheets that had holes in.

She was sure he was staring at her and would occasionally glance up at him but he would quickly look away, one time she was sure his cheeks turned a bright red and she was sure her cheeks ended up resembling them.

He got up to go start cooking soup for dinner which disheartened Anya slightly, the reason why she didn't know. She had enjoyed looking over, sharing glances with him and smiling, it all felt too familiar.

After dinner, Anya went back up the room where she found Dmitry, he had finished rather quickly so left before everyone else.

"Dima, is everything okay?" His heart ached at the use of the nickname, only three people in his life had called him Dima. His father, Alexei and her. Hearing her say it again brought butterflies to her stomach.

"Yeah, everything is fine, did you want me to leave while you change?"

"I'll change in the bathroom it's fine."

She disappeared for a second and then came out in her nightdress, she had taken the braid out and her hair curled slightly. He laughed to himself about the length on the hair, she constantly refused to get it cut and when she came down with the measles and had to cut her hair he remembered how much she had cried. He had comforted her while Alexei was asleep.

She'd come into Alexei's room and read to him until he fell asleep, he'd had a bleeding incident, then once he was asleep she went and sat on Dmitry's lap and wept. She'd asked him if he still thought she was beautiful, his answer was obvious, he thought she was beautiful in every way.

Even looking at her now, she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and this was probably the worst state he had seen her in. He was used to seeing her all regal and serene, full of confidence and very dolled up. But now, she was dressed completely different, she wasn't confident anymore, nor regal or serene and definitely not dolled up. But she was still perfect in every single way.

"What are you smirking at?"

"Nothing, just thinking." He grabbed a pillow moving it from where it was positioned from the bed and Anya knew his intentions almost immediately.

"Not happening. You're sleeping in the bed."

"Anya-"

"Yes, Dima?"

"We're not-" he started to speak, debating whether to finish his train of thought or not. She raised an eyebrow slightly and then he threw the pillow back to were it had originally been. "Fine, you win."

"Yay!" He laughed at how excited she was and he rolled his eyes in a joking manner, if only she remembered him properly. Anastasia would have sold her soul to sleep in the same bed as him.


	7. Chapter 7

Dmitry managed to wake up and get out of the bed without disturbing Anya. No nightmares had haunted her that night, he was on edge though, he didn't know when the next one would be coming, or how he would try and explain it to her.

He stood watching her now, her hair was a slight mess, but other than that, she looked perfect. Radiant. He hated so badly that she was so close to him, but so far.

He was greeted by Darya at the bottom of the stairs who gave him the money and her usual "be careful Mitya," before he left to the market. 

As he approached the market he realised he had walked quicker than usual, probably out of fear of running into another Bolshevik, or maybe it was because the quicker he got to the market, the quicker he could be back at the boarding house. Where she was.

"No Bolshies today, they left, don't worry," he turned to see his usual seller. He quickly did his deal, attempting to get what he wanted for slightly cheaper, but failing. He did, however, make the decision to not go to the bakers that morning, it put an extra few rubles in his pocket. Enough so that if he didn't buy bread for the next week he would have more than enough to get tickets to Peterburg and be able to buy some food in Petersburg as well.

He got back to the boarding house, knowing he was much earlier than normal, this because he didn't stop at the bakery this morning. He wouldn't have to start cooking breakfast for another half an hour at least so decided to go back upstairs.

He walked in and Anya was stood there pinning her hair up, the braid over the top of her head. He smiled, thinking too much into why she had done it.

Anya hadn't noticed Dmitry was watching her from the doorway. As she stood pinning her hair she hummed along to a melody, one of which she couldn't name, it was very quiet, Dmitry couldn't hear her at first.

Her humming did get slightly louder and Dmitry began to hear her, recognising the tune instantly. Her Nana's lullaby, the one from the music box.

He knew she didn't remember, she would be singing the song properly if she did, probably crying, mourning if she did. He ached, feeling a loss for himself. He brushed it away quickly though, looking at her and smiling.

It was his heavy breathing which told Anya he was in the room, she smiled and blushed, knowing he was watching her. She wished she remembered him properly.

"Dima," he startled slightly, his face now turning a bright red knowing she had known he was standing there, although he didn't know how long she had known.

"How close did we used to be?" She wanted an answer, it may not be the one she wanted, but she wanted one.

"We were close."

"How close?" He could tell her, tell her right now, how in love they were, how they would sneak away and steal kisses, how in a room amongst the rest of the Romanovs they would steal glances at each other. How at every ball she would have one dance with Dmitry, when questioned on it she said it was because she danced with her sisters and Alexei so she would dance with him as well. How, even though it was awful of them, when Alexei was sick and Dmitry was not allowed to leave his side, she would come to spend time with him, how they would steal moments when he was asleep, and that is how Olga found out about them. He could tell her it all now, but he wanted her to remember it.

"Quite close, why, did you remember something?"

"No-" his heart sank, but hers did as well. "I was just thinking."

...

The next morning Anya woke before Dmitry, his arm had wrapped around her and her head was buried in the crook of his neck, his chin rested on her head. She felt safe and warm.

She pressed her body to his, wanting to stay in this moment forever, it all felt too familiar to her, Dorogoy and Dusha whirled in her head. Darling and soul. Why they were there she didn't know. Why when Dmitry woke up she had the instinct to move up and kiss him again, she didn't know. Why she whispered the words "moy dorogoy" my darling, she didn't know. It frustrated her.

It frustrated her so much she pulled away from Dmitry and sat up and began to cry. She never wanted her memories back more than this moment, and it was because of him, she wanted to remember him.

Dmitry sat up following her, he thought she had had a nightmare, he hadn't heard her whisper the words he wanted to hear most. He pulled her close into an embrace, rubbing his hand up and down her arm.

"You're safe," he whispered, doing his best to help.

"I didn't have a nightmare," she quietly spoke. Dmitry's next thought was that she remembered, she remembered the death, but her following words removed that from his head.

"I just want to remember, it's infuriating." She pulled away slightly and then looked at him.

He looked back at her, her face turned red, her eyes red and puffy from crying. As he looked at her he realised how badly he wanted her to remember as well, when he looked at her he just saw a young girl who was lost.

"I want to remember you."

"You will, I promise." There was a small silence between the two and Anya gave a forced smile. "The Bolshies have left, did you want to come to the market?"

This time the smile on her face was real, Dmitry wiped the tears on her face away. He held back from kissing her, it was no time to confuse her more.

"I really can come?" There it was again, her childlike mind, it was still there. He kept forgetting she was 18, he forgot how young she was. But small moments like this made him remember.

"Yes, I said you could if the officers were gone."

Before he had time to even blink, the blanket had been thrown off of the two of them and Anya had run to the other side of the room where her clothes were, gathering them and walking into their bathroom.

Dmitry took this opportunity to change himself. 

Anya quickly came out, tucking her blouse into her skirt, rushing around. He didn't understand why she was so excited to take a walk to the market, but he liked seeing her this excited. It reminded him of their summers in Livadia and on-

"Dima-"

"Yes?" The tone of her voice worried him slightly, she seemed lost, maybe she was remembering something but he wasn't quite sure.

"Does the Standart mean anything to you?"

She was remembering, "yes it does." She didn't say anything else, just began to do her hair, with the braid across her hair.

It took Dmitry a full minute of consideration before he asked his question. "Does the Standart mean anything to you?"

"I don't know."

...

Anya wrapped her arms around one of Dmitry's as they walked to the market. He enjoyed it, they had never been this close, this often, before, they couldn't have been, he would've been a dead man he was sure of it.

Dmitry always forgot about the note on the dresser.

He could feel her holding onto his arm tight, her head leaning against him, he enjoyed it.

They were having a quiet walk until Anya let out a small gasp.

"I had a sister!"

Dmitry stopped, turning to face her.

"I had a sister?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I had a sister and a brother, and a Dima, whatever you meant to me, I had a mama and papa, I must've done papa was in my nightmare, kind of-" another small gasp, "Maria, my sister was called Maria?" She sounded my excited, the childlike manner was showing again. "Real or not real?"

"Real."

She threw herself around Dmitry, wanting a hug almost immediately, happy she was remembering something, even if it didn't help much at. Dmitry was very quick to wrap his arms around her in response, picking her up off the floor slightly as he did which made her giggle and blush.

When he put her down the smile on her face was wide and she very quickly slipped her hand back into his and then they continued their walk to the market.

They approached the seller which, to Dmitry, seemed extremely happy that morning.

"Ahhh, brought your little lady again this morning then?"

Dmitry didn't say anything, just smiled politely, but he felt Anya move closer to him, squeeze his hand tighter. Was she scared?

They quickly did their deal but Anya quickly scoffed up which got her a funny look from the man.

"Slightly expensive for some eggs, flour and milk don't you think?"

The man turned to Dmitry, almost completely ignoring Anya before he handed Dmitry some extra money in return.

He was definitely bringing Anya to the market more often.

"Are we not going to the bakery?"

"I didn't go yesterday, saved the extra rubles so I wasn't going to go this morning, did you want some fresh bread? We can go-"

"You really want to get to Petersburg don't you?"

"Yes. Did you want the bread?"

"No, let's go back."

The silence rose among them again.

"Why?"

He turned to Anya with a slightly confused look, but he didn't stop walking, he wanted to count the money they had, he was sure they might have enough now, even though it had only been a couple of days. Two days with no bread and two days of wages, surely he had the extra four hundred rubles by now.

"Why do you want to go back to Petersburg so bad?"

"It's my city, I was born there, lived on the streets until I was ten so I know it very well."

"Will you show it to me?"

"What like the whole city?"

"I want to see the city. All of _your _city."__


	8. Chapter 8

Dmitry walked straight upstairs as soon as he entered the boarding house, he counted the money as quickly as he could, Anya watching over his shoulder wasn't helping.

They had it.

Only just though.

"Do we have it?"

"Just a few short, if we stay for the rest of the week we'll have enough money for tickets and some food as well. I'll let Darya know we plan on leaving by the end of the week."

Why he had lied to her he didn't know.

Maybe it was because of the fact that he got to sleep next to her every night, in a bed, and he was sure that was going to change. Especially if they ran into any royals in St Petersburg.

"Anya, you just have to promise me one thing when we're in Petersburg?"

She turned to look at him, her eyes wide. His voice turned serious, this wasn't a matter to joke about, if they were caught, they would be dead.

"You'll stay as far away as you can from any Bolshevik officer."

...

The week passed by quickly, they had decided to stay until the following Friday, just before the weekend, or as Dmitry saw it, three days before Alexei's birthday.

He tried not to think about it, but with Anya by his side at almost every second she could be, it was hard to forget.

She hadn't remembered anything else, although she had asked about a few things, nothing of which was true.

Her nightmares had started again, three nights in a row she had had them now, she'd kick Dmitry awake, which he didn't mind, and then cry to him until she fell asleep, another thing he didn't mind.

This night though, he wasn't awoken by any kicks, but by a scream, a scream he was sure woke the entire boarding house. 

He jolted up to see she was still sleeping, tossing and turning in her sleep. He knew not to wake her, that had gone badly the other night, he just needed her to wake up, and with another scream she did. It was the sound of crying that made him realise she was awake.

He moved his hand to rest on her shoulder and started to rub his hand in a comforting, reassuring way.

"Anya, come here," he tried to pull her up slightly, her stubborn self refusing.

"I'm fine."

"Not having that, come on," this time when he pulled her up he succeeded, without even thinking he then pulled her onto his lap, something that hadn't done since being at Alexei's bedside.

He pulled her close and she rested her head in the crook of his necks, the sobs were muffled slightly. His hand moved to her back, rubbing up and down, the fabric of the nightdress, that was preventing him from reaching her bare skin, moved with his hand.

"You're safe, I promise."

"Don't leave."

He was slightly confused as to where that comment was coming from, but it only made him tighten his embrace around her.

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

"You promise, Dima, you really promise?"

"Yes, I really promise."

"Then why did you leave before?" She pulled away from his neck, he saw her tear stained cheeks, her puffy blue eyes, turned red from the crying. "You promised you wouldn't leave before but then you left and when we woke up you were gone, he said you were gone-"

"Who said I was gone, Anya?" He knew exactly where this was coming from, he knew who told he had left. She was recalling Ipaietiv House, how he left even though he promised to always stay with her, it must have been Botkin who awoke her.

"I- I don't know- did that actually happen, did you leave before?"

"Anya I-"

"Real or not real, you left me even though you promised to stay."

"Real."

"Why?"

"I didn't have a choice." Technically he did, but the guards were not having an extra dead body on their hands. One of the sole reasons for overthrowing the Tsar was to stop the death of innocents, and as far as the guards were concerned, Dmitry was innocent. "But I promise you, I'm not going to do it again."

He rested his forehead against hers, a small smile had formed on her face and then she moved her head back to the crook of his neck. Her cries started again so he simply pulled her close, waiting for her to drift off back into her sleep which she eventually did.

Her arms were wrapped around his neck so it was difficult to get her off of him so they were both lying down, she was still very close as he hadn't managed to move her arms, so their bodies were pressed against each other, but he quickly joined her in sleep.

...

He woke first that morning, he was slightly surprised as every morning that week she had been the first awake, but also the fact that she had had another nightmare, he wasn't completely surprised she was still asleep.

When Anya woke up she moved herself closer to Dmitry, feeling his heat radiating onto her, she moved her head to be against his chest and moved his arms from around his neck to around his waist.

Dmitry smiled, wrapping his arms around her so they were now in an embrace. If only she knew, he couldn't help but think.

"St Petersburg today," Dmitry whispered, his head on top of her, resting against her hair.

He felt her head jolt away and watched as her eyes opened wide and a smile instantly spread across her face. 

"Then what are we still doing in bed?"

"Because it's comfortable and warm, and-" his voice started to trail off, a rise of uncertainty.

"Dima, what's wrong?"

"It's just- in Petersburg, I don't have a home, I know somewhere we might be able to go, maybe, if we don't get caught by the Bolsheviks but, I don't know if we'll have a bed there."

"Just don't leave me on my own and I couldn't care less where we sleep."

He held onto that, the fact that she said we. It probably didn't mean anything, not in the way he thought it, the way he hoped she had meant.

They didn't move for at least another half an hour, their legs entwined, Dmitry's arms wrapped around Anya, holding her close. Her head was back in the crook of his neck, her body turned towards him, they fit together like two pieces of a jigsaw. They were just enjoying each others presence, the warmth of each other's bodies. Just that at this moment they were as close as they could - without being intimate - could be.

"We're going to miss the train if we don't leave soon," Dmitry let out a small groan of annoyance, he didn't want to move. At all. "Dima, come on, the sooner we go the sooner you can show me _your _city." The smile on both of their faces grew at this point.__

__"Well, we best get ready then!"_ _

__They pulled apart from their embrace, both of them feeling the cold as their bodies moved away from each other. Anya even had a small shiver before she collected her clothes and went to change in the bathroom._ _

__Dmitry got up and changed quickly himself, grabbing his satchel and running to the dresser, quickly placing the small items he had kept from the Palace and Tobolsk and the note from Ipatiev House, he still hadn't read it - it was sealed in an envelope and he believed for as long as he kept that note sealed, some part of Nicholas still lived._ _

__He opened the second draw, adding his second - and only other pair - of trousers into the bag, followed by two other shirts, he was lucky to have three of those._ _

__Anya came out, a smile on her face as she placed her nightgown and second set of clothes into her own bag before putting on her coat._ _

__She had a pouch, which she pocketed, with all the money in. She quickly turned away from Dmitry to pat her chest pocket, checking her secret was still there - she thought she should tell him, she trusted him enough, but, alas, it was the only thing she had. So, no, she would keep this secret another day._ _

__They headed downstairs and were greeted by Darya, tears forming in her eyes she pulled Dmitry into a close embrace._ _

__"I'll miss you and your bilinis Mitya, keep her safe." He pulled away and gave her a reassuring nod, "Get her out as soon as you can."_ _

__"How do you-"_ _

__"It doesn't matter," her voice turned a lot quieter, "just don't let anyone see her eyes, they give her away." He gave her another nod before they lost eye contact and she turned to Anya. "Stay safe my dear, look after Mitya here for me, he's not as tough as he seems." Anya giggled slightly which warmed Dmitry's heart._ _

__"To Petersburg, we go then!" His voice, more hopeful and joyful than he actually was. He took his hand in hers and she leaned into him, her other arm wrapping around the top of his arm so she was close to him._ _

__"Off we go."_ _


	9. Chapter 9

The walk to the train station seemed long, they seemed to always walk in silence, which was probably why it felt so long. As much as Dmitry hated the silence, he did love that he had her - to some extent. Yes, Anya was a different person embodied in Anastasia, but his Nastya was in there somewhere, and all his hope gripped onto that.

Anya felt bad for not talking to him, she wanted to, but afraid she would slip up and say something wrong. He knew her from before, he knew about her life, she could ask him to tell her everything, but it wouldn't be the same as her remembering. Maybe if she never remembered she might ask him one day, but she had to remember, she had to find her family.

Her mind went to something she had asked him the other day, had they kissed before, and they had. She could kiss him again, but he hadn't kissed her since, maybe they'd been together before, maybe she didn't mean anything to him more. Maybe she should just forget about it, it's not like she actually remembers the relationship they had before, she just hoped it was what she wanted it to be.

"How long will we be on the train for?"

"An hour, maybe two, it shouldn't feel that long though."

Silence ran over them again, all the way to the train station this time. Neither of them speaking again until Dmitry warned Anya to stay close to him at all times, she didn't understand why he was being so protective - or was it being possessive - she didn't know, she didn't mind either. As much as she wanted independence, she liked being close to Dmitry and she liked that, even though she wasn't sure on the reason.

Dmitry bought the tickets in a quick exchange, two tickets to Petrograd, although he almost said Petersburg, he'd of been dead if he'd slipped up.

He grabbed Anya's hand, pulling her closer to him, not wanting anyone to see her, especially her eyes. He noticed now, how much they gave her away, if anyone caught sight of them for more than a second, they would never get to Paris.

When on the train they were fortunate enough to find an empty cabin, they took it before anyone else could.

"Why did you lock the door?"

"Not a fan of strangers."

"Are you okay? You're acting weird."

"I just, I haven't seen her in so long, Petersburg, she's going to be different, I'm just nervous to see the city again."

Anya, who had been sitting on the bench opposite him at this point, did something that completely surprised him at that point. They hadn't done it since they were in Tobolsk. But she walked over to him and without thinking she sat on his lap and started running her hand through his hair.

"It'll always be your home, some of it would have changed, but some of it will still be the same- why are you smiling like that?"

"You-er-"

"Did you want me to move- I-" she went to stand up but he grabbed her and pulled her close. "Did we do this before?" Dmitry nodded but he didn't speak. "I'm sorry." 

Tears started to fall down her face, she didn't sob though, the tears were silent, so it took Dmitry a second to notice.

"Hey you don't need to be sorry, why are you crying, why are you sorry?"

"Because there was something between us, there was, I know there was, I know you won't tell me, but you're too familiar. Coming to sit on you now, I didn't even think twice, like some kind of muscle memory and when we kissed the other day, it felt right and it didn't feel wrong, and it felt normal, that's how I knew we kissed before. Not because I remembered but because it felt normal. Knowing to call you Dima, I don't know how I remembered that, must have been muscle memory, because I can't remember you Dima, but I so badly want to remember you. I want to remember why I feel like this, why I feel so safe around you. And I'm sorry I keep doing these things, I saw the hope in your eyes a second ago and I'm so sorry Dmitry."

Taking a minute to process everything she said, he wiped her tears away and rested his forehead against hers. He wrapped his arms around her tighter and pulled her closer to him, although this meant nothing to her, it meant everything to him.

"I don't expect you to remember Anya, I promise I'll help get your memories back, and if you want me to tell you stories from before I can, if you think that will help, if you don't want me to, that's okay as well."

"Dima, were we, you know?"

"Unofficially, if we had officially been together, we would've got into a lot of trouble."

"Why?"

"You were of a higher rank than me, an aristocrat, and I wasn't, I worked in the palace. Your brother and sisters knew, but if anyone else would've found out we would've been in a lot of trouble, you not as much as I, but it wouldn't have gone down well."

"That's stupid."

"You said that the first time we had this conversation the first time," he chuckled slightly which made her giggle back, the tears now starting to stop.

"Dima, did we ever-"

"No." He spoke before she could even finish the sentence.

"Oh."

"We couldn't, it would've been too risky."

"We loved each other, real or not real?"

That was it, that was the question he had never wanted her to ask. Because he still loved her, but she felt nothing, well, she may have felt something, but not the same way he did, she didn't have the memories.

"Real."

She didn't move, not even flinch, not even when she asked him the next question and he gave the same answer as before, even though it broke him to say it.

"You still love me, real or not real?"

"Real."

...

She didn't move off of him the entire ride. She did fall asleep though, her head resting on the crook of his neck.

He couldn't help but think back to when this would happen in Tobolsk, just before they left for Yekaterinburg. Alexei was sick so Olga, Tatiana, Anastasia and himself had stayed in Tobolsk a little longer. She'd come in because she was missing Maria and cried to Dmitry about it, that's how Alexei found out. She'd sat on his lap and cried herself to sleep while he sat and held her close. Then as soon as she was asleep he had a million questions from Alexei, he was just relived Alexei hadn't been mad.

The train pulled into the station and he looked out the window seeing his city, the sudden fear of coming back to the city disappeared as he gently shook Anya awake.

They got off the train and exited the station, managing to avoid and Bolshevik soldiers. He was holding her hand tight before she quickly wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Show it to me, every last bit."

...

Walking into the city all his memories of living on the street, all the memories of his father, they all came flooding back. He took Anya's hand in his and started showing her the sights of Petersburg. Here, where he stole his first loaf of bread, there where he bartered for a blanket, skinned a knee while climbing that wall, the quay where he would steal stolen souvenirs of Petersburg.

He dragged her around the city, showing her all his favourite sites, the places he would spend nights, his favourite bridge to sleep under.

"And this, this is my favourite view in all of Petersburg."

Her hand still in his he helped pull her onto the ledge he was standing on. The look on her face said it all to him, it brought a smile to his face.

"It's beautiful."

"My father used to bring me here, he'd put me on his shoulders and say 'Bet you could see all the way to Finland from up there Dima!'"

"So that's where Dima came from then?"

"Yes, he and you were the only two to ever call me Dima, other than your brother, but that was only on occasion." He paused for a second, watching her as she looked out at the view. "It's not usually as clear as this in Petersburg."

"It's beautiful Dima, thank you for showing me."

He sat down on the ledge, looking over the city, she sat next to him, her body touching his.

"I've been here before, real or not real?"

"Real, you used to live here."

"Where?"

"I think it was destroyed in the revolution."

"Oh, aristocrats were not favoured by the common man then?"

"Not really." He paused for a second, looking over the skyline as he took a deep breath, "My father, he was an anarchist. He didn't believe anyone was born better than anyone else, we make ourselves better than our circumstances. He died in a labour camp for his convictions. My mother was already gone, barely remember her."

"Who raised you?"

"Five years on the streets by myself, and then servants quarters from there."

She wrapped her arms around his, a common thing which happened now and rested her head on his arm as she continued to look out at the sunset over Petersburg.

"Dima, if I ever remember who I am, if, when I remember you, a title won't change anything between us will it?"

He didn't know what she was trying to imply here, he wished he could read her mind to know the exact thought that was going through her mind, wanting to know what she meant. All he knew was he wanted her back and she had kissed him the other day, maybe that's what she meant.

"I hope not."


	10. Chapter 10

They sat watching the sunset, as the sky turned a series of purples and peaches mixed in with hints of blue and pink. Sights like this were rare nowadays.

Anya's head was resting on Dmitry's shoulder and although neither of them spoke it was a perfect moment.

"We should probably go find somewhere to sleep."

"On the street?" He could hear the nerves that had clearly overcome her.

"Just for tonight, we'll find somewhere tomorrow." The look on her face said it all to him, she was scared but she was trying to hide it. He wrapped his arms around her, "I promise we'll be safe, I did it for five years and nothing ever happened to me, and it's just for a night, we'll find a bench and we'll be okay. I won't leave your side, okay?" She gave a small nod, her hand slipping into his.

It was rare he had moments with Anastasia where she showed her vulnerability, it was something he liked though, it was how he knew she liked him. She would never let herself be vulnerable to anyone, so seeing Anya be vulnerable around him, it made it feel as if he was with Anastasia.

He let go of her hand as he jumped off the ledge, the small gasp that came from her made him chuckle.

"Was that worry coming from you there?"

"No, why would I be worried?" She was worried because inside of her was still Anastasia, buried in there, she had all the correct attitudes, mannerisms, feelings, especially for Dmitry, she just couldn't remember that, couldn't recognise that because she didn't remember. Dmitry knew though, he saw in every little thing she did.

"Did you need help getting down princess?" The words slipped out of his mouth without him even thinking, he just hoped she hadn't noticed. She gave a little giggle and a small nod. He placed his hands on her waist and lifted her slightly before placing her on the floor, his hands didn't move from her waist, taking in the moment as he could. He got lost in her eyes again and it was a small giggle that pulled him away from that.

His hands dropped to his side and he noticed as her cheeks turned a rose-red which brought a smile to his face. Anastasia was still in there somewhere.

"Come on, let's go find a bench."

They started wandering around the streets of Peterburg - Petrograd - looking for one that didn't seem to be surrounded by drunk men. Every time they would come near a drunk Anya took another step closer to Dmitry. At one point she got close enough her arm was brushing against his. 

"Well, would you look who's here, little Dmitry, the prince of Petersburg!" Dmitry turned to see someone who looked familiar, he couldn't exactly say who as he hadn't been on the streets in almost ten years, but they evidently knew each other.

Anya looked at him, a clear uncertainty in her eyes and it looked as if there was a small fear.

"Thought you were heading to Paris?" A second man appeared.

"He must have missed his older partners in crime," although he didn't recognise the men completely, it became evident to him, after the third man had spoken, they were the people he used to hang around with when he was on the streets.

"Oh and would you look at that, he found himself a new girlfriend!" The fourth man appeared, this one he knew, he had hated him from the first day, although he couldn't remember his name, couldn't remember any of their names.

"She's not my girlfriend."

Anya was taken by surprise. When the drunk man had said girlfriend she had started listening to the conversation taking place, her heart sank slightly after Dmitry had spoken the words. Why, she didn't know. They weren't boyfriend and girlfriend anyway but-

Dmitry grabbed her hand and started pulling her away, she had zoned back out and hadn't been listening to what the men had been saying.

"Have a drink with us Dmitry!"

He released Anya's hand as he pushed one of the drunks away from them, he had gotten a bit close for Dmitry's liking.

"Come on Dmitry, I don't like these people," she started tugging at his arm, waiting for him to turn around so they could walk in the opposite direction, she was only met by another of the drunk men in front of her, grabbing her and rubbing his hands down her arm.

"Think you're too good for us sweetheart? Hey Dmitry, if you don't want her I'll take her!" His hands had moved to places on Anya where she didn't want him to, she grabbed his arm and kicked him away.

Another man, who at first she thought was Dmitry grabbed her from behind, but when she turned to see another drunk man, his hands around her waist, her instinct was to punch him in the face.

"Leave her alone!" She turned, looking to Dmitry in slight distress, he had pushed one of the men to the ground. He wasn't having any of them hurt her. Neither was she apparently.

It had suddenly turned into a full fight, the two of them pushing away the four men, kicking and punching them when they could. Dmitry had managed to scare the two smaller men enough that they had given up and run away, he had given the pair black eyes and a good few bruises. 

Anya had grabbed a stick and had started hitting the two men that kept trying to get close to her, the two men that kept pulling on her skirt. She was frightened, but she wasn't going to show it. 

One of the two men left had gone to grab Anya again as she was hitting the other man. Dmitry grabbed him pushing him away kicking him to the ground as Anya beat the other with the stick she had acquired.

The man Dmitry had started to beat very quickly collected himself and ran off which made Dmitry chuckle to himself, Anya turned to face Dmitry, a small smirk on her face. When she turned back to the man who had been in front of her he had gone.

"Where did you learn that? You're good!"

One of the two smaller men appeared again, catching Anya's eye.

"Do you want to see what else I can do!" Stick in the air she started running towards him but Dmitry got in the way, picking her up and spinning her around in the air. The man quickly disappeared.

"Argh- Dmitry!" She struggled to worm her way out of his grasp, wanting to show the man how annoyed he had made her.

"He's gone, Anya!"

"I was on my own for a year Dmitry! I know how to defend myself!" 

"I never said you couldn't!" He had raised his voice slightly, matching the volume hers had raised to, it brought a silence among them and they both stood awkwardly staring at each other. "Seeing as the men have gone we could sleep on this bench?"

"It's not big enough for- Dmitry you're not sleeping on the floor!"

"I won't I'll just sit on the end you can lie down if you want, I'm too tall to lie on a bench anyway."

She rolled his eyes but didn't argue back, he was glad about that. He sat on the bench, patting the space next to him and she placed herself next to him.

"It's cold." He smiled slightly pulling her closer to him, grabbing her legs and pulling them over his so she was half sitting on him.

"Better?"

"A little bit."

She rested her head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. She very quickly fell asleep which didn't surprise him, she would always fall asleep on him while they were sat by Alexei's bedside. What was surprising was how quickly Dmitry fell asleep, he never fell asleep this quickly on the streets.

...

Anya woke first, the cold was getting to her, when she woke she moved closer to Dmitry, seeking his warmth. She liked being this close to him, just him, being close to him they never did that before. Although she missed it, she-

Dmitry woke to her loud gasp and her rapidly tapping him.

"Dima, Dima, Dima!"

"What?" His voice was rough.

"I think- I think I remember something!" He looked at her waiting for her to go on.

"Well, go on then!"

"We did this before, me sitting on your lap, you holding me close, I'd fall asleep! And we had to be really careful because we didn't want to get caught and we- we'd only do it when Alexei got sick! He wouldn't be allowed out of bed, mama would be so worried he would have another bleeding incident. When he would fall asleep I'd come and sit on you!" She seemed so excited, he was still disheartened though, she didn't remember everything, she was still lost, he could see it in her eyes. "Real or not real?"

"Real," he placed his hand on her jawline, his forehead rested against hers, her smile so wide and beaming, "Very, very real."

If it was possible her smile got even bigger after he spoke the words. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled him into a hug, burying her head into the crook of his neck.

He was getting his Anastasia back, slowly, but he was getting her back.


	11. Chapter 11

They started walking around the streets of Petersburg, Dmitry knowing exactly where he was going. He had overheard someone saying his dear friend, Vlad Popov, had been secretly living in the Yusupov Palace.

Anya gave a small gasp when they got to a square. "Vlad!"

He looked in the direction of where she had been looking, Vlad was indeed there, looking as if he was about to shot by a Bolshevik firing squad. He grabbed Anya's hand and pulled her into an alleyway.

"Do not move. Promise me you won't move until I come back. Okay?" His voice was stern but also full of concern.

"Okay."

"Promise me Anya!"

"I promise, what are you-" before she could finish his sentence he dropped his bag and ran towards the firing squad, emphasising his pants as if he was out a breath.

"There's a girl!" He added heavy breaths between his words, "By the Neva!" He bent over his hands on his knee, "She's claiming to be Anastasia, and the boy with her," he paused as the Bolshevik's turned their attention to him, "He's claiming to be Alexei!"

In almost a second, all of the men ran in the direction of the Neva, leaving Vlad on the floor, Dmitry ran over to the man.

"Come on, we don't have much time!"

"Dmitry?"

"Not now Vlad, come on." He grabbed the arms man and pulled him up, pulling him after him as he ran to the alley they had left Anya in.

Once he got to the alley he let go on Vlad and grabbed Anya's hand.

"Ready to run for your life?"

"More running? I'm not as young as I used to be Dmitry!" 

"Get over it Vlad," he was just glad he hadn't look at Anya yet, "Yusupov palace, let's go. Now!"

He slipped his hand into Anya's, squeezing on it tight, checking she was okay. She gave a small nod and then the three of them started to run.

Dmitry took all the back alleyways in hopes they wouldn't run into any Bolshevik, and so Anya wouldn't be seen either, he wasn't sure how many people would recognise her.

They had been running around for about twenty minutes when they go to the steps of the palace, Vlad took over being the lead and walked up the steps, walking around to what seemed a back entrance into the palace.

They walked in and were in the grand ballroom, except it didn't look very grand now. It was dark and dismal without all the lights, a broken chandelier on the floor, some of the paintings slashed, the carpet torn and ripped. None of the chairs where the royal family would sit were in the room anymore. What was once a welcoming place full of happiness and light was now cold and unwelcoming and sent shivers down Dmitry's spine.

After catching their breaths Vlad gave Dmitry a wide smile and opened his arms.

"Dmitry! My boy!" His Russian accent was very thick. Dmitry accepted the embrace, he had missed Vlad, he had a weird relationship with him, he knew he could trust Vlad. He was one of the very few people who had known about him and Anastasia. "How have you been?"

"Well after everything that happened, it's been tough, but-"

"I saw the papers, was it really all of them?" Dmitry gave a silent nod.

"Well, that's what I need to talk to you about." He turned to grab Anya but she wasn't standing there anymore, panic overwhelmed him. "Anya?" He looked around the room until he saw her looking at the giant painting of the Romanovs, it was slashed, but you could still see their faces. "Anya! Come here!"

She ran to his side, hiding from Vlad slightly, he was surprised by the show of nerves.

"Vlad this is-"

He gasped, "Anast-"

"Anya. Vlad, this is Anya. We're trying to get to Paris so she can find her family, but we need your help."

"You need papers?"

"And tickets."

"It's risky Dmitry, but okay, I'll help. As long as I can come with, I have a lovely countess waiting for me over in Paris."

"Thank you."

"We need to talk about your little," he took a small pause, looking at how Anya had slipped her hand into Dmitry's, her other wrapped around his arm, "arrangement. Can we talk in the kitchen?" Dmitry didn't get a chance to answer before Vlad had walked out of the room.

"I knew him before, Vlad, he-he gave me a present," she paused as if she was trying to remember more, trying to figure out exactly how she knew him, but nothing came out. "Real or not real?"

"Real. You're getting good at this," she looked up at him, a weak smile on her face, "Go and find a room, preferably with a bed in it-"

"And we can sleep in there?" He smiled at the emphasis on her words and then nodded, placing a kiss on her forehead. "Thank you, Dmitry," her arms wrapped around his waist, asking for a hug, and he squeezed her back. Three simple words, but they had so much meaning.

They pulled away and walked in their opposite directions, Anya to find a room and Dmitry to find Vlad.

...

"So she remembers nothing?" Vlad was now sat at the table, head in his hand, trying to comprehend everything.

"Not exactly, she doesn't remember specific details, or much really, she remembers knowing you, she remembers little bits of me and Alexei."

"Of course she remembers Alexei, they were best friends, and I'm not surprised she remembers you, you two were," he took a deep breath, "very close."

"We play a little game, every time she thinks she remembers something, she asks me if it's real or not."

"She'll break your heart Dmitry."

"You can't break what's already broken. It's his birthday this week. None of them deserved this."

"You have to tell her."

"Tell me what?" Dmitry saw the panic that flared in Vlad's eyes.

"Er, it might, er, take us a while to get to Paris. How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long. I can help, I can see if I can get a job as a street sweeper or something?"

"Every little bit helps," Vlad said trying to move the subject along.

"I found a room, it has a bed in it!"

"You seem excited about that," Dmitry turned his attention away from Vlad, not wanting to talk to the count about her memories and what he should and shouldn't tell her.

"Come on," she grabbed his hand like an excited child, "I want to show you something, I think I remembered something."

...

"This room," she opened the doors and he recognised it instantly, it was her room. By her room, it was the room she had stayed in one time when she had visited Count Yusupov, Dmitry had been with her and Alexei, they were the only two who had come so he was able to sneak in her room that night without anyone noticing. "I recognise it. That's why I chose it, hopefully, it will help me remember." Her eyes were full of excitement and pain, he could tell how much she wanted to remember.

He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her forehead because he wanted her to remember too.

"You will, you'll remember everything soon."

"I hope so." There was a small pause between the two of them, just staring into each other's eyes. "I miss Olga."


	12. Chapter 12

Dmitry stood staring at her blankly. He had never told her about Olga. Olga had never even been mentioned. She was remembering. He could see the spark in her eye, the spark of Anastasia, she was coming back to him.

"I miss Maria as well. I really miss Masha."

"Anya..."

"Yes, Dima?" The spark that was in her eyes suddenly disappeared. He'd lost her.

"Think about what you just said a second."

"What? That I hope I remember? Are you okay Dima, you look as if you've seen a ghost."

How did she not remember the words she had just said, had she been lost in some sort of trance. It was the only thing that could possibly make sense.

"Never mind, Vlad said I need to go to the market did you-"

"Yes."

...

Getting to the market Dmitry was nervous, even on the market there were Bolsheviks almost everywhere, he had to be careful. No one could see her eyes.

They started making their way around the market, bartering for different things, Dmitry may have stolen a bit of bread while Anya was talking to a stall owner, fortunately, no one noticed.

They came to a stall which was selling clothes and Dmitry walked over, deciding both he and Anya needed new shirts at the least.

While talking away with the seller, managing to get the prices as low as he could, he felt as his bag got slightly lighter. Turning around quickly to see what was happening, he saw Anya handing two cans of beans over to a seller, getting a small box in return. He rolled his eyes, he would bring this up later.

He finished his deal, placing the shirt and blouse in his bag before quickly grabbing Anya's hand and dragging her away so she didn't trade anything else.

He didn't talk to her the entire walk back to the palace, she could tell he was annoyed with her. But the box she had picked up, it seemed too familiar for her not to pick it up. She recognised it and needed to properly look at it.

Her hand went cold when Dmitry let go, she was annoyed at him for being annoyed with her so copied his act and didn't say anything as she walked off to their room.

Dmitry dropped his bag on the counter in front of Vlad and followed her, wanting to know exactly what she had traded their dinner for.

When he walked in the room Anya was sat on the bed fiddling with the small box, looking as if she was trying to find a way to open it.

"What's that, a jewellery box or something?" Her body jumped as he spoke, she hadn't expected him to follow her.

"No, but it, it looks familiar."

"It looks broken."

"It's not broken it's-" she found the little key at the bottom of the box and turned it twice and the lid clicked open.

She lifted the lid the rest of the way to reveal to figures in a waltzing pose that started to spin as a song started to play, she started to hum along almost instantly which sparked worry within Dmitry.

"Anya?"

"Dancing bears, painted wings, things I almost remember, and a song, someone sings, once upon a december..."

Dmitry watched as she seemed to get lost in a trance, as her hand moved around the box, her eyes never leaving the twirling figures.

"Things my heart used to know, things it yearns to remember, and a song, someone sings, once upon a december..." she closed the box and Dmitry watched as tears started rolling down her cheeks. He sat behind her on the bed and wrapped his arms around her. She let go of the breath she didn't realise she had been holding and then turned and buried her head in the crook of Dmitry's neck, resulting in him pulling her on his lap.

She didn't hysterically cry, but he felt as some of her tears fell onto his neck. He started tracing shapes on her back, waiting to see if she fell asleep, and not to his surprise, she did.

He deprived her hand of the music box, placing it on the nightstand next to the bed, as he laid her down and covered her with the thin blanket before he left the room to go and find Vlad.

...

"Her grandmother is offering a reward, ten million rubles."

Dmitry shook his head, placing his hands in his head. This was not happening.

"We have to get her to Paris, Vlad. Before some imposter takes her place."

"You'll lose her Dmitry."

"I already lost her once, it'll be less painful the second time, and anyway, she'll be with her family, she'll be happy."

"You know that's not the case, she remembers you."

"No, she doesn't, not properly, not really."

"She'll remember soon, just keep trying to help her."

"No, it's not important that she remembers me, she just needs to remember being a princess, then we can reunite her with her family and she'll get the happy ending she deserves. We're going to see this through Vlad."

"Dmitry-"

"No, Vlad, we're going to remind her of being a princess and then take her to Paris, we'll get the papers and the tickets and then we'll go. Don't argue Vlad, that is what is happening." His stubbornness was starting to show, putting his walls up to stop any argument.

Vlad just simply shook his head and finally gave in, his heartbreaking for Dmitry, he wanted to hug the boy but he knew he would refuse.

The two continued to sit in the room in silence, the same thought going through their heads, how were they going to teach Anya to be a princess without telling her the actual truth.

Their thoughts were overcome however when they heard a scream. Both of their faces jolted to look at each other, fear in Dmitry's eyes.

"Go to her."

Without thinking twice, without another word, Dmitry got out of his seat, running to where Anya was. When he walked in she was sat on the bed, hugging her legs to her chest, tears down her face.

She looked at Dmitry and a small gasp escaped her.

He was there, standing in front of him, then it all came rushing back. The parade, seeing him in the servants quarters, him then being a carer and friend for Alexei, the crush she had for him, dancing him with him at a ball, which her mama told her off for. The two of them sneaking away for private moments, the first time he kissed her, the first time they confessed they loved each other. Being caught be her siblings at different times. In Tobolsk where the almost- Then a wave of anger came over her. He promised he wouldn't leave in Yaketerinburg, he left, left them alone, he found her in the woods, lied to her, never told her she was-

Maria, Olga, Tatiana, Alexei, all the memories came back, dancing with Papa at balls, getting the measles, summers in Levada, boat trips on the Standart. Everything important came back.

"Anya, it's okay, it was just a nightmare." His voice was gentle and calm, part of her wanted to kiss him, but part of her wanted to hate him.

He came closer to her, attempting to wrap his arms around her but she moved away.

"Hey, it's okay, it wasn't real."

"Yes, it was."

"Anya, what are you on about?"

"It's not Anya. You know it's not Anya. You lied to me," he looked at her, shock overwhelming him. "You told me they called me Anya, no one ever called me Anya," she was lying to him, he had actually called her Anya a couple of times, but not very often, "and you never once thought to mention I was a Grand Duchess!" Her voice had raised slightly, he could hear the hurt in her voice.

"You remember?"

"And you lied about knowing me from before!" She didn't think about what she was saying, it just came out, the words hurt her slightly, "You said you knew me but, I don't remember a Dmitry at all!"

"You don't-" no, he would talk to her about that once she had calmed down, "It wasn't safe for you! If anyone recognised you, they could have killed you!"

"Like they did my family-" the tears were filling her face now, she was hysterically sobbing, "Go away, I don't want to see you."

"Nastya, I couldn't lose you again, I'm sorry, it wasn't safe, Russia isn't safe-"

"Go away Dmitry."

He walked out of the room accepting his defeat. Maybe he had lost his Anastasia forever.

The door shut and she watched as he left the room.

Emotions overwhelmed her. Remembering her family was like losing them all over again, and the way she had just treated Dmitry. She shouldn't have done that, but he hated him for lying to her, he was going to have suffer the consequences for that.

But she was suffering as well, as long as she didn't have him, she would be suffering too.


	13. Chapter 13

Within a few days, Anya had managed to get a job as a street sweeper and Dmitry picked up a job in a factory, making in cars.

He came to notice that Anya- Anastasia, had been ignoring him and avoiding him at all costs. She refused to let him sleep in the same room as her so he slept across the hall. Her screams had woken him every night. He had managed to run into her the first night, she accepted the comfort until she remembered she was mad at him and then yelled at him to go away. The four nights since she had moved something in front of the door and he couldn't get in. Hearing her cries and her screams but not able to get to him broke him.

Vlad was not fully convinced of her act on not knowing who Dmitry was. He would sit with her during breakfast, helping her grasp onto things she couldn't remember and they had this thing called princess lessons, he was helping her to remember how to act. But every now and then she would recall a story and start to mention something Dmitry had done, as soon as she realised who she was on about she would stop and change the subject. Vlad knew she remembered him, he just couldn't figure out why she acted like she didn't.

Several days turned into two weeks of her ignoring Dmitry, barricading the door and wanting almost nothing to do with him at all. She hurt and he had lied to her. Why would he lie to her but claim he still loved her? She didn't understand.

Fortunately for Dmitry, not so for her, their days of happened to clash in the week. Neither of them happened to realise though.

"She doesn't want me there, I'll help you get the tickets, then take her to Paris, she'll be happier without me."

"Dmitry, she remembers you, she's just hurting, she'll come around eventually, you love each other."

"Whether she remembers me or not she still hates me. I fucked up Vlad, nothing is going to change that."

She walked into the room at that exact moment and Dmitry stared at her. She was tired, her nightmares kept her up and there were clear dark circles under her eyes, he wanted to help her, but she was stubborn.

She had one of the blouses Dmitry had bought for her on, he knew he had bought it because before she had only owned long sleeve blouses, this was a short sleeve, and she had her long skirt on. Her hair was down for the first time in two weeks though, she had started to wear it up in spite of him, but now she wanted to catch his attention, he knew it, he just didn't know why.

"Did you want some tea?" Vlad said getting up from his seat, Dmitry simply just shook his head but wanted to hear her response.

"No, I don't like tea," he rolled his eyes, there was no way she was getting hot water and lemon here, especially not the lemon part.

Vlad had clearly decided he was testing her this morning, starting to ask her questions about her relatives and who they were, what they did.

"And your best friend?"

"My little brother Alexei," she spoke with confidence and joy, a wide smile on her face, one Dmitry hadn't seen in a while.

"Wrong." She quickly looked over to Dmitry, a cold stern look on her face, of course he would ruin her mood. "You're best friend was Ma-"

"I know who my best friend was Dmitry!"

"What a temper."

Obviously, the first conversation they were having in two weeks was an argument.

"I don't like being contradicted."

"Well, I guess that makes two of us!"

"Dmitry!" His attention turned to Vlad and he rolled his eyes again, in a temper he stood up and stormed out the door, slightly dramatic but he was hurting, he made sure to slam the door behind him which made Anastasia jump.

Vlad turned to her, he noticed the tears falling down her face.

"He misses you," he knelt to her side, handing her a handkerchief, "he's lashing out because he loves you and he misses you. I know you might not see it, or you don't want to accept it-"

"He loves Anya, not Anastasia."

"No, stubborn girl," the comment wasn't rude or harsh but said in a humorous way, she gave off a small laugh, "he loves you, not Anastasia or Anya, seeing as your saying their two different people, he just loves you."

She didn't respond, wiping the tears away. "It hurts him more that you're pretending to not remember him."

"I'm not pretending-" Vlad raised his eyebrow at her and she immediately lost eye contact, "Well he doesn't-" another raise of the eyebrow told her everything. "Oh- well, he shouldn't have lied."

Vlad simply shook his head, "Stubborn, the both of you!"

...

She didn't barricade her door that night, but when she woke from her nightmare she wasn't surprised to see that Dmitry hadn't come in. Of course, he wouldn't, she had been rejecting him for two weeks.

Seeing as he wouldn't be going to her, she decided to go to him.

It was the footsteps he heard from her room which made him get up from sitting in front of the door, he moved away from it, slipping into his room across the door.

He shut his as he heard hers open.

A small knock at the door brought a small smile to his face, a slightly bigger one when she opened it.

"Can I stay with you tonight?"

Her voice was small, he could see from the light in the hall that her hair was a mess and her eyes were puffy.

"Yes."

Her movement was small, and he could tell she had gone shy and anxiety fulfilled her. She snuck in next to him, pressing her back against his chest, she hadn't forgiven him properly yet.

He wrapped his arm over her, pulling her closer into him, holding her close, knowing full well she would leave in the morning without a word. He didn't care though, because, in that moment, he had a little bit of her back, and he took every opportunity he could. He kissed her head, and then rested his against hers. He stayed awake until he knew she was asleep and then he too fell asleep, with his Anastasia in his arms.

He was right. When he woke up, he was in his bed alone, she left without a word. He knew he hadn't dreamt it because her smell lingered and the door was shut, he never shut the door.

He went down to the kitchen where Vlad and Anastasia were talking, Vlad asked how he was but she acted as if he wasn't there. It hurt slightly, but her ignorance hurt less because of last night, so he simply shrugged it off.

He went to the factory and did his days work, stopping off at the market on his way, he was surprised to see her waiting for him. He didn't question it, but she walked over to him and slipped her hand into his and walked the rest of the way to the palace with him.

Once they got to the palace they went their separate ways and didn't see each other again until dinner. Vlad simply smiled and laughed, feeling the ease of one tension in the room but the rise of another.

That night when Dmitry was woken by screams he went to get out of bed but stopped himself, expecting her to knock on the door, his suspicions correct again.

A small knock on the door made him sit up and when she pushed the door open and he saw her standing there he opened his arms to her and she practically ran over to him, she didn't say anything, but unlike last night, before the two of them lay down she wrapped her arms around him and cried in the crook of his neck.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, it was moments like this when he remembered that she was only 18, she'd seen too much of the world already.

He held her close until her cries stopped and then held her close to him in an embrace as the laid down, she rolled over again so her back was to him. She was still being stubborn.

He held her until she fell asleep and then continued to hold her as he slept next to her. He wasn't surprised when he woke up to a half-empty bed again the following morning.


	14. Chapter 14

He didn't know how to feel.

Her trust was clearly starting to show again, it had taken her a couple of weeks, but her coming to him when she had a nightmare showed the trust was growing. She would meet him every day now as well, after work, sometimes she would even come to the market with him.

Other than that she would avoid him to whatever extent she could. Although she was seeming to get closer to him she wouldn't talk to him, the last thing she had said to him was her asking to stay with him.

It took him by surprise when her screams woke him last night but she didn't come into his room.

He waited for a second but when he heard her scream yet another time, worse than he had heard her scream before. He stumbled out of bed without thinking and ran to her room, fortunately, the door wasn't barricaded like it had been every time he had tried to get in before.

As he ran in he watched as she jolted up and ran away from the bed. He watched as the tears started falling down her face and how she turned to a hysterical state in almost second. 

He heard when she quietly whispered his name and then as she yelled his name in sense of need. He ran over to her and wrapped his arms around her.

"H-how long have you been in here?"

"Long enough, that doesn't matter, just breath, you're okay."

She buried her head in his chest, pushing herself closer to him, his hand moved to her head and he ran his fingers through her hair in a soothing manner.

"I keep seeing, that night, different parts, and tonight-"

"Hey, it's okay, you don't have to tell me," his voice was soft and calming, you could hear the raspiness of it, she liked it though. 

He felt her head shaking, "We were in the cellar and- the firing- and-" her sobs took over and he pulled her close.

He continued to pull her in close, whispering that she was safe into her ear, telling her he wouldn't let her go. He felt as her arms continued to wrap around his waist tighter, how she was still shaking, nothing was calming her down.

"Can I tell you a story, it might help?"

She let out a very light laugh and leaned away from him, he saw how red her eyes were a wiped a few tears away as she let out a small nod. He took her hand and pulled her over to the bed, the two of them sitting on the edge.

"What is it about?"

"A parade," he watched as a small smile crept on her face and she instantly lost eye contact. As if he didn't need any more confirmation that she was only pretending to not remember him. "June 1909, it was very hot and there was a crowd of thousands, I was only ten, and there was this massive parade going on in the streets of Petersburg showing off the Royal family, the little princess especially as she had just turned eight. I remember she had a bright pink dress on, the four sisters were all in one carriage, matching pink dresses and matching pink bows. The youngest, she sat there looking so proud and serene, she was so radiant and confident, so beautiful, the most beautiful of the four. The whole crowd was cheering and screaming and it was so hard to see, so I dodged between everyone to get to the front and then as soon as I was in the road I started to call out her name and she wasn't supposed to, but she smiled. The sun got in my eyes so I had to look away, as soon as I looked back she had gone, if I were still ten, in that crowd of thousands, I'd find her again."

He looked at her, a wide smile on her face, the tears had stopped, her cheeks were a flushed red.

"It was blue."

"What?"

"We didn't all have matching bows, mama was so angry with me because of it, I came out with my blue bow. And it wasn't until after you bowed the sun got in your eyes, you bowed first, Olga told me off for smiling at you because we weren't supposed to. And I wasn't the most beautiful, Tatiana was always the most beautiful."

"I could easily argue with you on that all day. Look, I'm really sorry I lied to you."

"It's fine, I've forgiven you."

"You have?”

”I'm surprised you haven't realised, ” she let out a small laugh. 

”I'm just glad you're smiling again.”

”Will you stay with me?”

”Of course I will, ” he pulled her into an embrace, plating a small kiss on her forehead. 

”I’m sorry I lied about not remembering you, I was-”

”It’s okay, you were annoyed and being stubborn and being Anastasia, how much do you actually remember?"

"Not as much as I originally thought I did, when I was mad at you, I seemed to remember everything, and now I'm back to not knowing what actually happened and what didn't happen." He could hear in her voice how upset she felt, how lost and broken she was.

"We can still play our little game if you want?" She nodded and he pulled her in closer to him, she was practically on his lap at this point, but he didn't mind.

"Can I meet you at the market tomorrow?"

"Yes just-"

"Don't let anyone see my eyes, I know, I'm careful Dima."

...

He had stood waiting for her for fifteen minutes that he gave up and decided to head into the market, she was probably late, but that wasn't like her at all, he didn't think twice though.

He did start getting suspicious though when he had finished his business at the market and she still wasn't at the corner where they would usually meet.

He started to grow worried, thinking of possible scenarios that could have happened, the top of his list being that she had ran into a Bolshevik and he had recognised her. Once he had thought that he couldn't get the idea out of his head and worry and fear overcame him, he couldn't lose her again.

...

As soon as she left his office she started running. She understood full what Dmitry and Vlad had warned her about when they had said 'don't let anyone see your eyes', the gave her away, and that officer, Gleb, had just confirmed it for her.

She'd never been scared like that before, it was a new kind of fear. Hearing how it was his father who had been the one to kill her family, hearing that he had killed himself from guilt brought a slight joy to her, but she felt bad almost instantly for feeling happy about someone else's death.

The words lingered in her head, "Your eyes, a man could look right into them, be careful comrade, they give you away."

She had to find Dmitry.

She got to the corner where they were supposed to meet and thankfully he was still there. He was relieved to see her, ready to pull her into an embrace, but before he could do that she had grabbed his hand and had started running again, searching for a back alley.

It wasn't exactly a back alleyway they came across, but the bench they had slept on the other day, the drunks were there again and as soon as they saw Anya they all ran away, she couldn't help but laugh.

"What, in the hell, was that, why, were we running, what, is going on?" His sentence slightly jagged as he was trying to catch his breath. She didn't respond for a second, trying to catch her breath herself.

"Some officers, they found me, took me to some Deputy Commissioners office-"

"What?" He had yelled slightly louder than intended which only resulted in her getting closer to him and pushing her finger against his lips.

"He said he knew where we were living, and if I kept pretending I could be killed and-" the fear she had been holding back suddenly took over and several tears escaped, "He saw my eyes Dmitry. He said they give me away, I'm sorry, I tried to look away but he-"

"It's okay, we'll figure this out, I don't know how but we will."

"Paris, we have to go."

"We don't have enough money yet."

"Close your eyes."

"What, why?" He thought about teasing her, asking if she would kiss him, but realised this was too much of a serious situation.

"Stop being stubborn and close your eyes! Oh and give me your coat!"

He rolled his eyes and took his coat off, handing it to her, and then closing his eyes. 

"Put your hand out," he did as she said, confused as to what was happening.

Part of her felt bad for ripping his coat, checking the medicines mama had sewn in were still there, she was surprised he had never noticed. She decided to only place one of the small diamonds she had in his hand, she would show him the rest in a second.

"Alright, open."

It took him a second to realise, but then he looked at the shimmering speck in his hand.

"Is that a diamond?"

"A nurse at the hospital found it sewn in my underclothes, she hid it for me until I could leave, she said I had to keep it a secret until the moment I must, until I found someone I truly trust."

"How do you know I won't just take it and leave you?"

"Because I know you won't, that's not you."

"You've had it, all this time, and you didn't tell me?"

"I mean, you have a collection of your own!"

"No, no I don't, if I did I would- holy crap." She had shown him the rip she had made in her coat, showing what seemed like an endless amount of diamonds in his coat. "I never thought your mother trusted me, I see this is what she meant when she said she was mending my coat. I guess we're going to Paris!" In a moment he picked her up and spun her round in the air, placing her on the floor he leaned in to kiss her only to be interrupted almost instantly.

"The palace, it's been raided!" Dmitry held up the diamond in front of his dearest friend, "Mother of Moses, where did you get that?"

"Ask the Princess."

Vlad turned to face her and smiled, "I love you!" He said it in such a fatherly way Dmitry chuckled slightly.

"Vlad, get the exit papers, Anastasia-"

"Anya, please still call me Anya." He was slightly confused as to why she said that, she was slightly confused herself, but they could talk about that later.

"Anya, go back to the palace, please be careful, get only what is necessary, what we need, I'll go pawn the diamond!"

"The train is at midnight from the Finland station!"

"I'll see you there," Vlad ran away leaving the two of them alone again.

Dmitry was about to run off to go sell the diamond when-

"Dima-" he turned to look at her, she was showing her vulnerability but it soon disappeared when she walked up to him and pulled him into a kiss. One of his arms started to wrap around her but she pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, taking in the moment for as long as he could.

"Stay safe okay?"

She nodded in response, it didn't spark anything in his mind when he heard her say "I promise dusha," not until he had started running to fence the diamond. He had to stop in his tracks when he realised.

He almost had her back.


	15. Chapter 15

Dmitry was the first one to arrive at the train station. He wasn't surprised by that, seeing as he had the easiest job, but he was still worried about Anya and Vlad. Anya especially.

Fortunately, he didn't have to worry for long because a few seconds later she showed up, she had a suitcase in her hand and a bag on her shoulder.

"Only what was necessary yeah?"

"Maybe a few extra things," he gave her a small stern look but she was quick to defend, "the sentiments, like the music box, and I found a photo I want to show you later." He nodded, she clearly didn't understand they were obviously included in the necessities.

"We're finally going to Paris then?" It was one of the moments where he couldn't read her, he couldn't tell if she was excited about this or completely full of fear.

"As long as Vlad comes back with those papers!"

The station was starting to fill with people and Anya instantly moved closer to Dmitry, he noticed and moved his hand to her lower back, as if telling her he wasn't going anywhere and she was safe.

"Hey Anya," she turned and looked at him, her face still unreadable, "we need to talk about-"

Before he could say anymore Vlad had joined the two of them, throwing passports and papers in their faces, saying something about the Diaghilev Ballet Russe, neither of them were listening though. They were trapped in each other's gazes, Anya because she was desperately trying to figure out what Dmitry had meant saying they needed to talk. Dmitry trapped purely because he was in love with her, he was trying to pull her memories out, it just wasn't working.

Anya was snatched from their staring competition when someone pulled her over and practically bowed to her in the middle of the station, kissing her hand as he did.

"Fuck," Dmitry turned to Vlad, a worried expression on his face as he mumbled under his breath.

"Is that Count-"

"Ipolitov." Dmitry interrupted. He was sure by now the entire platform was looking at the little show going on right before their eyes, the count clearly noticed as well as he quickly collected himself, stood up and walked away.

Anya stood there for a moment, trying to take in what had just happened, someone else had recognised her, and that was before he'd even seen her eyes. She quickly moved back to Dmitry's side, wrapping her arms around his waist so no one else could copy what the count had done, she also refused to look at anyone but Dmitry now.

Vlad noticed the two were close again, he didn't say anything though, he wanted them to be happy for the time being, he knew it would end in heartbreak for them both though, just like him and his dear countess.

"Are you going to miss it?"

Dmitry looked down to her, his arm had found his way around her waist, holding her close, he looked slightly confused.

"Russia, are you going to miss it?"

"I mean, she was my home, of course, I'll miss her, but there's nothing left for me here anymore, no need for me to return anymore. Russia is all I've known, raised me," at this point, he was sure he was trying to convince himself he would miss this city, but as long as he was with her he was home.

"I'll bless my homeland til I die," Anya whispered, only so he could hear, he nodded in agreement.

The announcement came for them to board the train and Anya placed her hand on Dmitry's, he slipped his fingers between hers interlocking their fingers, he could feel her shaking, he assumed it was either cold or nerves, but he'd ask her later.

They managed to get on the train, no questions asked and also managed to find an empty compartment for the three of them which they turned and locked straight away so no one else could join them. Vlad sat on one bench and Dmitry and Anya on the other. He had sat by the window and she moved up to him rather quickly, leaning on him and pulling her legs up onto the bench.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Later," he discretely pointed to Vlad and she nodded, understanding that it clearly was a conversation that he didn't need to hear. Instead, Anya moved closer to Dmitry, her head finding comfort on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat which worked as a lullaby which sung her to sleep.

Dmitry sat watching out the window as the train travelled on, watching as his city, his Petersburg started to grow more into a distant memory. He thought to leave this city, this country, it would upset him more, but he wasn't upset at all, he didn't really know how to describe how he was feeling.

Vlad was very quick to fall asleep as well, as much as he didn't want to wake Anya, he didn't know how long Vlad would be asleep for and if he would sleep again if he woke up.

He shook Anya gently until she started to stir, she sat up, moving her legs in front of her, stretching them out as they had started to cramp.

"Come on," he stood up and she looked slightly confused, but followed anyway. They walked to the end of the carriage and fortunately there was a little balcony. The railing was there to stop them falling off so Dmitry sat up against it, she joined him.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"I think I know the answer, but, before you ran off to the palace the other day, did you realise you called me Dusha?"

She gave him a look as if to ask _really?_ and then by looking at him properly, she realised how serious he was. Suddenly she could read everything he was thinking. He missed her, he didn't know how much of her actually remembered him, how much of her actually wanted him, how much she missed him. She wished she could remember everything.

"Yes," she watched as a small light grew in his eyes, but he was hesitant to let it take over him, expecting her to follow with something else, "I remembered the nicknames a while ago, Dusha and Dorogoy, I remembered the day after we ran into the Bolshevik in Perm, at least I think I remembered."

"Yes, you did," his hand moved to cup her face, moving her hair to behind her ears, she hadn't braided any of it today and it looked perfect, she always did to him. "And the kiss?" She turned a bright red, which didn't surprise him in the slightest. What did surprise him was when she leaned in and pressed her lips against his. His hand moved round to the back of her hair, pulling her closer to him.

She very quickly moved herself so she was straddling him. She slowly bit on his lip and then quickly pulled away when she realised.

"Dima I-"

"Hey, no, it's okay-"

"No, you don't understand." He clearly didn't understand, because when a tear fell down her face but she still had a wide smile plastered across her face.

"You're right, I don't," he wiped the tear away, not pulling his hand away from her face.

"At the balls, you told me if I was lonely to look at you and pretend I was by your side and then walk outside, you'd follow and dance with me in our secret spot, you'd kiss me and go back and I would follow a couple of minutes later. When Alexei was sick, you'd pull me on your lap and comfort me until I fell asleep, that was the first time you called me Dorogoy," she laughed a little, "we thought Alexei was asleep but he wasn't, he was mad at first, but then we explained and he promised to keep our secret.

And then when Mama and Papa went away with Maria, and we were alone in Tobolsk, you slept in my room at night, and Olga caught you sneaking out and then Tatiana came in and she was so angry-" Dmitry could not believe the words that were coming out of her mouth, he looked at her full of admiration, her spark in her eye was there, "And when I danced with you in the ballroom on my sixteenth birthday, oh Mama was so mad with me, but Papa calmed her down and said I had danced with almost everyone in the room, it was only fair I got to dance with you as well.

And then our last night in Tobolsk, you came and we sat like this and we almost, but I-I'm sorry about that."

"Hey it's okay," his fingers caressed his cheek, "neither of us were ready, it's a good job you spoke up or I feel we both would have regretted it."

"And then in Yekaterinburg, I always took my five minutes outside the same time as you and Alyosha, we made sure it was a different time to Mama and Papa though, so we wouldn't get caught when you kissed me," she giggled and then looked at him in the eyes, she knew it was all true, she remembered it all, even single moment with him, "Real or not real?"

His forehead rested against hers, his hand moving down and wrapping around her waist, pulling her further into him.

"Real." His voice had gone deeper, from him trying not to cry, because she was sitting there in front of him, his Nastya, she was there. He pressed his lips against hers this time and he felt her legs wrap around him, he started to think about where this was about to go, but instead decided to stay in the moment, kissing her. She bit his lip again and her hand slipped under his shirt that he had to pull away.

"Okay firstly, we are outside, secondly, we are not doing this on a train."

"Dima-" she whined and he laughed.

"We are not doing this on a train An-" he paused, unsure of what to call her.

"Anya, I'm still Anya until Nana sees me, but I'm also Anastasia, Vlad can call me that all he likes, but I like when you call me Anya."

Her legs still wrapped around his waist, Dmitry thought it would be a good idea to stand up and completely wind her up. It worked. Her arms instantly wrapped around his neck, clinging on for her life, letting out a small scream and once he had stood up straight, she dropped her feet to the floor, slapping him on the chest slightly.

"I missed you," he whispered as he placed a quick kiss on her cheek before taking her hand and guiding her back to to the compartment that Vlad was still sound asleep in.

He sat exactly where he had sat before, and she went to sit by her side, but before she could, he swiftly pulled her onto his lap. He was never letting her go again.

His hand slipped under her blouse, tracing shapes on her back, which made him realise she had limited undergarments on, and he should probably take an opportunity of that before she was thrown back into corsets, but that could wait until they were in a hotel.

Her head found a space in the crook of his neck and peace was finally coming among her, she couldn't remember everything about her brother or sisters, but she remembered Dmitry, and that was all that mattered to her as she fell asleep for a second time.

...

It was Vlad who woke them up.

Dmitry remembered watching as Anya fell asleep, but no recollection of him even feeling tired.

"As much as I wanted to let the little princess continue her slumber, we just arrived in Berlin, and I don't speak a word of German."

"Guess I'm the translator for the day then."

"Just find out when the next train is and if necessary get us a hotel, then I'll leave you two to whatever you want to do."

Both Anya and Dmitry found themselves turning the exact same shade of red, avoiding each other's gaze, as well as Vlad's. Vlad only laughed at the awkwardness of the situation.

They stood awkwardly for a second before Vlad suggested actually getting off the train, Anya took to walking quite close to Dmitry and as soon as they stepped off the train into the crowded station she very quickly grabbed the sleeve of his coat. He turned to her, giving her a sympathetic look as he moved his hand into hers.

They walked through the station until they got to the board where all of the train times where. Neither Dmitry of Vlad could read German so Anya had to tell them there wasn't a train to Paris for another three days, but they could get the train to Belgium the following day.

Before Dmitry could say a word to anyone she had turned to a woman and had started rambling off to her in German, he zoned out until she grabbed his hand again and pulled his arm around her.

"Mein Ehemann," he felt the smile on her face grew although he had no clue what she was saying, so he simply kissed her head, holding her tightly. 

"Er ist ein hübscher Mann, Sie sind beide sehr glücklich, bleiben Sie in Sicherheit." Not knowing what the woman had said, Dmitry just smiled at her politely.

"Danke sehr," Anya smiled at the woman and she smiled back and then walked off. She let off a small giggle and then turned on her heel and had to look up to see Dmitry. As much as he tried to stop himself, he couldn't help but quickly lean down and brush his lips against hers, he pulled away in an almost second, knowing they were in the middle of the train station, and Vlad was right next to them. He watched as her cheeks turned scarlet and wrapped his other arm around her, holding her in an embrace, resting his head on hers.

"There's a hotel just around the corner, we can stay there for the night and then get the train to Belgium tomorrow, sounds like a plan?"

Dmitry and Vlad both agreed and Dmitry let one of his arms fall from being around Anya, the other tightly around her waist, holding her close.

Anya was quite delighted to see that woman had been right, the hotel had quite literally been just around the corner, she rolled her eyes slightly when Dmitry reminded her that she was the one who had to book the room as neither he nor Vlad could communicate at all in German and that everything sounded like random sounds.

She walked over to the reception and Dmitry couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when she walked back with the smuggest look on her face while handing a key over to Vlad but not one to Dmitry.

In almost an instant Vlad had disappeared and Anya couldn't help but laugh.

"Can I have my room key, I want to go take a bath!"

"I thought, maybe, you'd want to-"

"You booked us a room together?" She nodded and bit her lip, Dmitry could see that she was nervous but he couldn't understand why. He thought maybe it was the new city. "Well, why are we still standing here?"

She let out a small giggle as he grabbed her hand and started pulling her towards the staircase, she ended up pulling him around in the end as she knew where the room was.

She opened the door and was excited to see the size of it, the, what seemed massive, double bed with fresh white sheets on it, the bathroom that could be seen into with a screen that pulled over.

The smile on her face grew more when the door shut and Dmitry hugged her from behind, his arms wrapping around her chest, a kiss on her collar and then a kiss on her head.

Dmitry couldn't help but smile as well. The first night that they were actually alone, no sisters across the hall, no co-workers in next door rooms, no Vlad across the hall. It was just the two of them.


	16. Chapter 16

They stood on the inside of their hotel room, Dmitry still hugging her from behind, his head resting on top of hers, just taking a moment to take in that he had her back.

"So," she grabbed his hands with hers and pulled them away from her, spinning her self around and then interlocking their fingers as she pulled his hands down, reaching on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his. "What did you want to do?"

He watched as her eyes glimmered and a smirk grew on her face which made him chuckled slightly before he moved his hands to around her waist. "I would really like," her eyes widened looking at him, "to take a bath."

In a very quick movement, he spun her around again and let go of her, running to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and closing the shutter.

"Dima!"

"Anya!" He shouted back at her, mimicking her tone of voice.

"You're so annoying!" She walked over to the bathroom door and tried to open it, locked. "Let me in!"

He opened the door slightly to which Anya then saw a shirtless Dmitry right in front of her. She looked down slightly, being able to the muscles on his torso, he was well toned and she couldn't revert her eyes.

"Eyes are up here, you wanted me?"

"I- erm-"

"I'm going to take that bath now," he slowly shut the door giving her a smirk and a wink as he did, he heard as she let out the breath she had been holding and rested her head against the door.

...

Anya sat on the bed, she had changed in her nightgown with no plan to go out that evening. When Dmitry came out of the bathroom it was clear he had other plans though as he was fully dressed.

As he walked over to the bed she got on her knees and lifted herself up so her face was at a closer level to his, he had thrown the towel in a direction she wasn't looking because as soon as she was in front of him she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"Are you planning on going somewhere?"

"I was going to go for a walk and check on Vlad, I won't be long, I promise."

"You're going to come back aren't you?" There it was again, that hit of how young she still was, how naive she still was, how alone she was.

"I promise I'm coming back and I won't be long, I promise." He placed a kiss on her forehead before brushing his lips against hers, he would never tire of having the opportunity to kiss her all the time.

...

He didn't realise how long he had actually been gone until he walked back into the hotel room and Anya was fast asleep on the bed. She wasn't underneath the covers, she was lying on top, one of her hands under head the other over her chest with her knees brought up to her chest slightly.

She clearly hadn't been in a deep sleep because as soon as the door clicked shut the started to stir and then she sat up, rubbing her eyes.

"Why did you take so long?"

"I got you a present?"

She jumped up very quickly, eager to know what the gift was.

He passed her the small package of brown paper which only made her all the more curious and then she began to rip the paper away. Inside was a dress, a blue dress.

"They didn't have pink so I thought blue would be the next best thing."

"Dima I love it! Thank you!"

He walked over to the edge of the bed where she had been sat and placed a kiss on her lips. The paper and the dress that was between them was very quickly thrown to the floor as Anya grabbed Dmitry, pulling him closer to her. He bit on her lip and she started to lean back, he placed himself on the bed, holding himself up with his knees and he started to push her back so she was lying down. Their kiss got deeper as she started to run her tongue against his lips, with her hand starting to wonder about. 

She reached for the top button of his shirt and although he liked where he thought this was going, for some reason he couldn't see it through.

He pulled away and placed a kiss on her forehead which left a puzzled look on her face.

"Dima-" She sounded slightly flustered which didn't surprise him.

"I'm not de-flowering a grand duchess when she hasn't had a bath in what, over a month" he spoke with a small laugh as he removed himself from being on top of him.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't, you love me."

"Maybe I do, what about it?" She said pressing her lips to his, then pulling away, "I know I remember a lot now, about us, but I still don't remember everything, did we, say that before?"

"Yes, and you said it first," his smile grew but he could see the nerves on her face, "You don't have to say it again yet, not if you're not ready, you've been through a lot, it's okay," she bit her lip in a nervous way and gave a small smile.

"Do you really still love me?"

He couldn't quite believe she had questioned it, but there must be so much happening in her head that he also wasn't completely surprised. "Yes, now go have a wash," he pressed another kiss to her lips, soft and tender and one that lasted, one that said, _I'm never going to leave._


	17. Chapter 17

"Malenkaya be careful!"

"But Papa! It's so beautiful! And we haven't been on the Standart in so long!" A little Anastasia giggled as she ran up and down the port of the family boat.

"Nastenka, listen to Papa before Governess tells you off!" Maria grabbed her sister's hand pulling her in close, stopping her from running around everywhere.

"Mashka, you are no fun."

"No, I just don't want us being told off again and not being allowed to play on the boat again like last year!"

"That wasn't my fault!" She defended herself, she hadn't meant to almost fall off the boat, but the wind had been strong, a bit too strong for a girl of only nine years. "Where's Dmitry and Alyosha, they might be more fun," she stuck her tongue out at her sister before running along the deck of the boat to find her brother and his companion. Nicholas simply watched and rolled his eyes at the younger pair, chuckling to himself slightly.

When Anastasia caught sight of Dmitry and Alexei she skipped over without a care in the world, giving off a little giggle as she did. She embraced her brother and gave Dmitry a quick look, smiling a little as she did, she could feel herself blushing as he smiled back.

"What are you up to?"

"Mama said I'm not allowed to move because of my bleeding last week, so we're sitting here watching the water and the sailors."

"Oh, well, I bet you're still having more fun than I was, Papa was telling me off and Mashka was saying if I didn't listen Governess would tell me off as well," she eyed the small gap that was between the ledge Dmitry and Alexei were sitting on, she walked over and lifted herself up, squeezing herself between the pair resulting in Dmitry having to move over slightly.

"You're annoying."

"You're not allowed to talk to me like that-"

"Nastya!"

"No, she's right Alyosha, I'm sorry Your Highness."

"I was teasing! How come you call Alyosha by his nickname but you call me Your Highness? Can't you call me by a nickname?"

"I call him Dima so he calls me Alyosha," the small boy shrugged looking back over to the sea, he was bored and he wanted to run around.

"Can I call you Dima?" Dmitry looked at the girl, she had a wide smile on her face and he couldn't help but smile back, only he would get a crush on a grand duchess.

"If you want, I guess," showing no emotion, that was the way to hide it, he was sure.

"And you can call me Nastya or one of the nicknames the rest of the family call me, okay?" He smiled and nodded and then felt as she placed a kiss on his cheek. They both blushed. She let out a small giggle before she slipped off the ledge and skipped off to go find Maria.

...

Dmitry stood against the railings look out over the stars. He shouldn't be doing this, they shouldn't be doing this, it was too risky.

Her arms wrapping around his torso calmed him slightly.

"Hi," her voice was quiet and soft, a whisper, music to his ears.

"Hi," he turned round to see her looking up at him, her eyes wide, excitement dancing in them, "We shouldn't be doing this."

"That's why it's fun," she let out a small giggle and got up on her tiptoes placing a kiss on his lips, his arms quickly wrapped around her waist as he pulled her closer.

"I missed you."

"You see me everyday Dima," she gave him a charming smile, winking slightly as she did.

"Not like this though." He took the hair that had fallen in her face and moved it behind her ear, his hand followed her jawline and then tilted her head slightly so he could kiss her again, "If anyone knew I would be dead in an instant."

"That's why we're keeping this a secret," she let out a small giggle, "Do you remember when we were on the boat six years ago, I was nine, and you said I could start calling you Dima."

"Yes I remember, you kissed me on the cheek, I remember being excited about it on the inside because I had a really bad crush on you."

"Same here, guess it worked out for the both of us then," she reached on her tiptoes to kiss him again but pulled away when she heard footsteps, "I'm going to hide!" 

...

She rolled over snuggling into Dmitry's chest. She opened her eyes and her lips curved into a smile. She was here. He was here. They were okay. They were together. She sat up and kissed his forehead before kissing over his face and then kissing his lips, she knew he was awake when she felt him kiss her back.

"Good morning," her voice was small and quiet as she placed another kiss on his lips before resting her head in the crook of his neck.

"I could get used to this."

"I had a dream about you last night, well, more of a memory, but a dream."

"Do care to tell."

"We were on the Standart when I was nine and you were eleven, when you told me I could call you Dima, and then it was when I was fifteen and we had snuck out one night and we were almost caught by Governess and then I woke up."

"At least it was a good dream, and if I remember correctly," He towered over her now, lowering himself to press his lips against hers, "this," he kissed her again and he felt her lips form a smile, "happened a lot."

"You would be correct."

Vlad knocking on the door interrupted their small moment, Dmitry flopped onto his side and let out a sigh.

"You two need to hurry up, we have a train to catch!"

Dmitry smiled as he watched Anya give out an excited gasp and threw the covers away from her running to grab her skirt and blouse and before he knew it she had disappeared into the bathroom, part of her was still holding onto old habits, whether she did it on purpose or not he didn't know.

He got out of bed himself and quickly dressed and smiled as she came out of the bathroom, she went to do her hair but he grabbed her hands. 

"Leave it down today, as soon as we get to Paris you're going to have to wear it up almost all of the time," she gave a small smile and nodded at him before placing her hand on his face and kissing him lightly.

"Thank you, Dima, for everything."


End file.
